


Agape

by PunkRyuki



Series: A Study In Love [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Amateur Psychology, Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, But it's none of our lovely Golden Quartet, But it's off-screen technically, But mostly Draco's POV, Dark!Harry, Dementors, Depression, F/M, Horcrux Hunting, M/M, Mind Rape, Multiple Personalities, Redeemed Snape, So much death, The real Horcrux was the friends we made along the way, Wandlore, minor smut, shifting pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 10:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 94,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11273721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkRyuki/pseuds/PunkRyuki
Summary: Agape (agápē): (n) The highest form of love, divine love.Harry has been found, but all is not right with The Boy Who Lived. His mind has been fractured, and it's up to Draco and his friends to save him, before it's too late.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the third (fourth?) and final installment of A Study in Love!! Technically, at this moment, I'm not finished completely writing the story, but I'm just so impatient to get this out to you guys, I couldn't hold back. I will try to update as frequently as I can. 
> 
> This story is going to be different from the others, more adventure and less high school rom-com. Since it is wrapping up the whole story, and combining the last two books of the series, we're going to be seeing the dark side of the war, and a lot of people are going to die. But it won't be any of our lovable kids, don't worry. 
> 
> Also, fun fact, this story comes with a soundtrack! I have the full playlist here: https://8tracks.com/punkryuki/a-study-in-love-agape. Though, take note, it might be kind of spoilery? It has the chapter titles in it. Or, if you want to keep things a surprise, each chapter summary is a song, and you could just wait for each update.
> 
> As always, this work hasn't been Brit-picked (or even beta-ed for that matter.)
> 
> Opening Theme: Vanity by Yuki Kajiura (vocals by Emily Bindiger) http://66.90.93.122/ost/yuki-kajiura-fiction/kxaplarnzr/05-vanity.mp3
> 
> Chapter Summary: Prologue - Beauty and the Beast: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3JmvKM2k2o

The Château de Melusine stood on a magically hidden island off the south of Cannes in the shape of a crescent moon. The small bay held all sorts of magical creatures, the most of which were the Merpeople, direct descendents of their most revered goddess Siren, and thus had a bit of a chip on their shoulder compared to their kin in other waters. They lived in underwater caves carved out from the base of the island, and loved to swim past the windows of the château's dungeons so that the wizarding folk who lived there might ogle at their beauty. When that wasn't enough, they would sunbathe on the sandy dunes or on rocks, letting the sunlight reflect off of their colorful scales.

Severus Snape paid them no mind as he quickly let go of Draco's hand. He wouldn't have the boy here at all, but, being the only Malfoy, was the only one able to Apparate within the wards. Side-Alonging him had been the only option, and luckily was close enough that the wards did not eject them into the sea.

"Do you think he's really here?" Draco spoke in a hushed whisper, looking at his boyhood vacation home with wide eyes.

Snape didn't know what to believe. Nearly two months had passed since The Boy Who Lived had been taken. Not once in that entire time had he been summoned to the Dark Lord's side, and he worried what that might mean. Could He have possibly suspected him? No, if that were true, he'd already be dead. Still, wouldn't the Dark Lord have wanted to host a celebration with his Death Eaters over finally capturing his nemesis? Even their tip-off about this place had not come from any of his circles, and its credibility was questionable at best. All of this uncertainty ate away at him, but he kept a stoic disposition. Uncertainty was a trapping pit on your pathway.

No one came out to greet them on their progression across the large front courtyard. Their shoes clacked loudly on the smooth pavement, but there was no cry of alarm or the hiss of a spell. In fact, aside from the wards, there didn't appear to be any protection or signs of life. They passed by the elaborate fountain of some long dead ancestor in a chariot pulled by kelpies, a trail of bubbles following their progression as they swerved about, never traveling outside of the fountain's parameters. Still, when they reached the large white front doors, nothing happened.

"I don't like this," Draco mumbled, eyes darting around. "None of the house-elves have come to greet us."

The distant crash of a wave on the cliffside filtered through the air. Snape waited until he could hear the tide recede before speaking. "After that debacle during your second year, I doubt your father would trust house-elves with a secret hideout for his master." They had come prepared for stealth and espionage, but Severus was beginning to wonder if they shouldn't have taken down the wards and called for backup. This felt immeasurably like a trap, but it was also completely possible that the château had simply been abandoned. Perhaps it was too obvious a hiding spot, given Lucius' known affiliation with the Dark Lord. Or maybe it had been emptied after the Ministry had seized all of the Malfoy assets when he was sent to Azkaban. Given his continued failure, Lucius was probably happy to be there.  
  
Just to be cautious, he cast several detection spells on the door, and found no signs of traps or alarms. Considering the coast clear, he pushed open the doors. The inside of the château was dark and still. The grand foyer was clean, but sparse. All of the lavish paintings and expensive furniture were gone, leaving only blank spaces where they had once been. He waved his wand, and said, _"Homenum Revelio."_ He heard the wind-whistle noise of magic, and in his vision he saw a blue glow in the vague outline of a person laying down. There was only the one, but he wasn't sure if his spell reached the entirety of the château. "This way."

He felt Draco follow him, and didn't once look back. The spell acted as if he could see through walls, so while he could walk in the direction of that blue silhouette, his way was still impaired by physical objects. The building was large, and its hallways serpentine, instead of following a grid pattern. A couple of times, they had to double back, but eventually they reached the eastern wing, and he could sense Draco's tension rising.

"This is my personal wing. No, it couldn't be..." Then, before Severus could stop him and chastise him about his foolish behavior, the boy shot off, forcing him to take off after him. He hated running, and he'd be sure to punish him accordingly for forcing Severus to exert himself in such an unseemly manner.

When Draco reached a large set of Rococo style gilded doors, he used his wand to blast them open, revealing an ornate bedchamber as large as his house at Spinner's End. Directly across from them were glass doors leading out onto a wide balcony, their lacy white curtains billowing gently in the salty breeze. The sun filtered in, leaving a warm glow on the white and gold of the room. Most notably of all was the large half tester canopy bed with obvious dragon imagery painted on its elaborate headboard and gauzy white curtains falling down from the ceiling high canopy to be tied up on the sides by golden ropes. Written in blood across the wall and over the headboard were the words _A GIFT FOR THE TRAITOR_. Severus knew that given the location, and the fact that it was written in blood meant Draco, but he couldn't help the surge of fear that he had been found out. And below it all, lying there amidst fluffy white cushions and what looked to be about twenty snakes coiled around his body was Harry Potter.  
  
For a terrifying moment, Severus thought he was dead. He was more pale than he remembered the boy ever being, and his body didn't move, but for the slight raise of his chest. His initial glance showed no obvious injuries. In fact, he looked very much as he did on the day he was taken, still in the same clothes. One of the serpents, emerald green and highly venomous, slithered down his arm in a hiss, revealing to him something he hadn't noticed. In Potter's hand, with a single bite taken out of it, was a cherry red apple. The Biblical imagery was not lost on Severus, and he worried that perhaps the boy was not as unharmed as he appeared.

"Harry!" Draco took a step forward, his hands outstretched. The snakes, which had been previously unaffected by their presence, all suddenly hissed threateningly, heads swivelling in their direction.

Severus didn't freeze in terror as Draco had done. With a calm flick of his wand, he pronounced, _"Vipera Evanesca!"_ Suddenly, all the snakes around Potter vanished in a puff of black smoke. Draco didn't hesitate a moment longer to rush to his side. The scene was touching, the white knight kneeling at the bedside of the sleeping prince, holding his hand and caressing his face with tears in his eyes. Severus thought he just might be sick.

"He's so cold," Draco sobbed, and despite his clumsy petting, managed not to rouse the boy. That was not a good sign.

"Draco, we need to get him back to Hogwarts."

The boy nodded, wiping his tears, and lifting the limp body into his arms with considerable effort, if his loud grunt was anything to go by. He even carried the boy princess style. Was he in a fairytale suddenly?

"You could just use a Levitation spell."

"No. I'm not letting him go." Draco held the body even closer. Fine, if he wanted to be stubborn, then let the fool tire himself out needlessly. They would have to walk all the way back to the Apparition point. He levitated the apple with his wand, placing it in a protective bubble for later study. It may have been more than just a prop. He shrunk it, and placed it in his pocket, before following Draco on his way out.

 

* * *

 

  
Potter still did not wake, even when Draco lowered him onto the clean white bed of Hogwarts' Hospital Wing. All of the students had already left for the Summer, and so the castle was eerily quiet. Grimmauld Place may have been their headquarters, but it was no place for a recovering victim of the Dark Lord's whims.

Albus and Poppy arrived a moment later, having answered his Patronus. The matron may not have been a member of the Order, but her medical know-how rivaled even the best healers at St. Mungo's, and they needed to keep this as under wraps as possible.

"He was there?" Albus said by way of greeting. He did not wear one of his usual pointed hats, likely having no time when Snape's Patronus reached him.

"In a bed of serpents, with this in his hand." He pulled out the apple and returned it to its normal size. It floated in the air between them, still in its protective bubble. "There was also a message on the wall: 'a gift for the traitor.'" All eyes flickered to Draco's tense shoulders. "He hasn't woken yet, but given the nature of some of the Dark Lord's tortures, I thought it best to bring him to a more suitable environment before I _Rennervated_ him."

"A wise decision," Poppy praised him on her rush to Harry's bedside. She tried to shoo Draco out of her way, but when the obstinate boy refused, she gave up and set to work around him. She cast all manner of detection spells. A soft white orb appeared over Harry's heart, before turning green and pulsing in a steady rhythm. She muttered a lot to herself, but from what Severus could pick out, none of it was bad.

Finally, after what felt like forever, she turned to the both of them, her back to Draco. "I'm not sensing anything wrong with him. There's no signs of damage. However, I did see some unusual brain activity. As far as I can tell, he's merely in a magically induced sleep, nothing that can't be undone, but I was wondering if, Severus, you might take a look inside, before I wake him."

He knew what was being left unsaid between them. The Dark Lord was a master Legilimens, and would occasionally use it as a means of torture. Poppy stepped aside, revealing a trembling Draco. He looked so small then, no longer the shining knight, but now the scared little boy he had seen that fateful day nearly a year ago. He looked into his eyes. 'I tried to warn you,' Severus thought. 'I tried to save you from this pain.' His eyelids fell closed and then opened for him to look at Potter. It was not impossible to perform Legilimency without looking into a person's eyes, especially if they were relaxed and asleep.

 _"Legilimens."_ He sunk into the boy's mind, but something was wrong. Where normally he would walk down a gallery of all of his memories, could pass by a door labeled Greatest Fears or Deepest Desires, now he stood in a room of shattered mirrors, each reflecting a piece of some fractured thought, but he could not grasp onto any one thing. It was like trying to catch a cloud with your bare hands. They all shouted at him at once, cut-off screams, half words, distorted images. He searched for one piece, the biggest piece, and sunk into it. The memory was fuzzy, pieces of reality missing like sun damaged photographs. He saw a figure, all of them was black and fuzzy, except for the eyes, red eyes with serpentine slits for pupils. "....Harry...how could...mine... _Legilimens_...that... _yesssssss_...." He pulled back, blinking into his awareness of reality.

The others looked at him with intense hope, and he took no relish in breaking it. "His mind has been shattered into I don't know how many pieces. From what I can gather, the Dark Lord has been raping his mind constantly during his capture."

Poppy gasped, her hand over her mouth in horror. "To have endured that all this time...!"

Albus nodded gravely. "The boy is stronger than we gave him credit for." His sad blue eyes flickered to him. "Perhaps he retained some of your lessons."

It was as good as a punch to the gut. His failure to properly teach the boy Occlumency was what had ultimately led to his capture. Though, even he would have broken under constant attack from the Dark Lord. "I don't know what we'll find when he awakens."

"There's only one way to find out." Draco's voice shocked them all, as silent as he had been. He stared at all of them fiercely, his tears now gone. "What are we waiting for? Wake him up."

Given any other situation, Poppy would have likely swatted the boy across the head for his disrespectful tone, but instead, she just pointed her wand at Potter, and said, _"Rennervate."_

Harry gasped, eyes flying open as if they had just poured a bucket of ice water on him. His green eyes darted everywhere, his chest heaving with his laboring breaths. Finally, his eyes seemed to settle on Albus, and his face scrunched in confusion. "Professor Dumbledore?"

The old wizard beamed. "Yes, my boy. You are safe."

Potter didn't look relieved, only more confused, then he turned to the person holding his hand lovingly and screamed.

They all jumped back in surprise, Draco included, which was a good thing too, for Potter began to thrash around in his bed, punching and kicking and screaming in bloodcurdling terror. He launched himself out of the bed, and before either of them could grab him, he dashed out of the Hospital Wing as if the Dark Lord himself were after him. They rushed out into the hall, wands at the ready, but found it empty. The boy was gone.

 

* * *

 

  
Severus had thought he had known fear when he had first angered the Dark Lord. He had thought he had known fear when he learned of His intentions to kill the Potter family. Never before had he felt like this. They searched all over the castle, and still could not find the boy. He was clearly not in his right state of mind, and who knew what trouble he had gotten himself into, running around without a wand. If he had finally got the boy back, only to have him kill himself in a fit of lunacy, he would never forgive himself. All of his efforts to save him would have been wasted.

Albus seemed the least afraid out of all of them, which only stressed him out even more. The headmaster, now rightly reinstated in his position, stared out of his window in his office. "To what purpose?"

"Albus, we have to find Potter."

He nodded. "Why did Voldemort keep Harry with him all this time, only to simply return him to us?"

What did that matter right now, if he was missing again? "He grew weary of torturing him, and so he discarded him."

"Come now, Severus, you don't really believe that, do you? To sift through his mind, and instead of killing him, to simply return him to his enemies?"

His face darkened. "You think he is here as some kind of Trojan horse? That he is currently possessed by Him?"

"I can think of no other reason why he would allow such a precious possession to fall out of his reach."

"Possession? He is not some Dark artefact but a boy!"

Albus looked at him in surprise. Severus himself was shocked by his shout. "Don't tell me, after all this time, you have grown to care for the boy?"

He could feel his face slamming shut, projecting a blank wall. "You know perfectly well my motivations."

Albus' face softened. "Yes. I apologize for my wording earlier. I was simply trying to understand Voldemort's intentions."

"Then perhaps he's not gotten into Potter's head, but into yours."

He looked so remarkably old then, an old man standing in an old room amongst old things. Severus wondered if perhaps they put too much hope on this wizard to save them all. "I'm going to go look for Potter. Feel free to help." And he turned around in a swish of black robes and left.

As soon as he got to the ground level, he regretted his harsh words. Albus did not deserve his frustration. He was trying to help in his own way, to think about the bigger picture, but Severus had always had a problem seeing past his immediate fears. He gave up searching the castle, and instead took a walk on the grounds. The fresh air would help clear his head, and he could continue looking outside. He was almost positive that Potter was not in the castle.

The sun was beginning to set, the light waning, and with it his hope that Potter hadn't fled Hogwarts completely. Maybe they should head to Hogsmeade? It was a long walk to the nearby village, but not impossible. His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed something peculiar in the distance. The Whomping Willow was acting strangely. Even in the fading light, he could still see a buzzing green cloud around it. He moved closer, traveling down the hill, and as he drew near, he could hear a flapping sound. Were those birds?

No, not birds. Leaves. Hundreds of them, plucked from the very branches of the tree itself, and they flapped about like a flock of birds, swirling round and round. It was a sight he hadn't seen in many years, and it made his breath catch in his throat. He stumbled closer, making sure to keep well out of smashing range, even if the tree was being unusually docile. He almost tripped on Potter, who was lying in the grass, hands moving above him like a conductor. He looked up at him with startlingly green eyes, and a sad smile he'd never seen on his boyish face before. When he finally spoke, it was a soft voice that didn't sound much like him at all. "Hello, Severus."

The air left his lungs. "...Lily?"


	2. Severus' Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily's Theme - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eukcZ5J-3Hc

Potter sat up, keeping himself propped up by his hands in the grass. He pulled off his glasses, blinking into the distance before putting them back on. Were his eyes greener? "Harry really is blind. How can he have my eyes and still need glasses?" He hit him with a smile that was all Lily.

"How is this possible?" Severus' own voice sounded weird to his own ears, like somebody had Imperiused him into speaking.

"We took a class taught by a ghost, Severus. This should be the least surprising thing."

His throat clammed up, and he knew his heart must be on his sleeve for all to see, but he could never hide it from her. "How long have you been in there?"

"I came to Harry when he needed me most." She looked so sad, and all of him ached to hold her. He'd never really stopped aching, he supposed.

"What about when I needed you most?" His gut clenched with the effort to reign in his emotions, as wild and untamed as the Whomping Willow.

All cordiality gone. "You never needed me. You made that perfectly clear."

"I'm sorry for those things I said. Why couldn't you forgive me?"

She stood up now. "Because you still became a Death Eater. You still joined the man who killed me."

He took a step back. "I tried to save you. I told Albus-"

She shook her head. "Even without the prophecy, it was only a matter of time before I was killed. What did you think would happen? That you would purge the world of Muggleborns, and somehow I'd be fine?"

"You should know better than anyone how horrible the Muggles are. You remember my father. Look what your sister has done to your son, just by virtue of what he is. Why should we have to hide?"

She stood up, scoffing. "You're still a Death Eater, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not. I'm--"

"A spy, I know. You may be working for Dumbledore, but you still believe in _his_ ideologies. I forgave you for the words you said a long time ago. But I'll never forgive you for joining Voldemort."

Something in him broke, and his face shut down. "You don't have to forgive me. You just have to live. Come with me. We'll get you back to the castle, and Albus will help us figure all of this out." He reached out his hand to grab her arm, but she stepped back.

"No. I'm not going with you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt Harry ever again." And then she dashed towards the Whomping Willow. He called out to her in alarm as the tree stretched its boughs and moved to pummel her into the ground, but she dodged it easily, and slid down into that secret tunnel he knew would lead to the Shrieking Shack. He wanted to follow after her, but fear gripped him. Nothing good had ever happened to him in there. He forced himself to step closer, but his limbs shook, and he couldn't fight the powerful urge to run away.

In defeat, he returned to the castle to find Albus. The Headmaster was still in his office when he burst through it. Even though twilight had faded into darkness, the old wizard still remained awake, his old mind plotting. He stood over his pensieve, pulling up a silvery string of memory to place into a small glass phial.

"It's Lily." He didn't bother with any small talk or greetings.

Albus regarded him curiously.

He forced himself to slow down and explain. "I found Potter. He's been possessed by Lily. She refuses to let anybody near him."

Albus sent him a pitying look that lit up his back. "No magic can bring back the dead, Severus."

"It's her! He knew things that only she knew."

The headmaster still didn't look impressed, and Severus had the great urge to smash all of his little phials. "Or you knew. You told me that the boy had rebounded your Legilimency spell once, yes? That he saw into your mind? Is it not impossible then that his subconscious might have latched on to the one thing the both of you had in common? Even if Harry did not realize it himself?"

It was far-fetched, but logical. Their minds had melded there for a second. Continued use of Legilimency can sometimes leave traces. "You said once that she used old magic when she sacrificed herself, that her love put a protection on the boy. Could it be possible that some part of her lives on inside of him?"

Albus shook his head. "That is not her. She's gone, Severus. Do not lose yourself to hope."

Severus snorted. He had been lost for a long time. "Then what is it, if not her?"

The old man put his hands behind his back in that philosophical pose he loved so much. "I believe it is Harry himself. He must have undergone a tremendous amount of stress under Voldemort. His mind was being torn apart. Who else do scared little boys call for besides their mother?" To his surprise, Albus' blue eyes were watery.

"So in order to protect himself...he developed a separate personality? His mother?"

He nodded. "Who's the one that's saved him the most?"

Severus wanted to argue that it was himself, despite what the boy might think. "Say you are correct. Then what should we do?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not a Mind-Healer. But it seems that you are, once again, our best hope. He will listen to you."

"No, he won't. She hates me." He hung his head.

Albus stepped forward and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "When have you ever known Lily Evans to hate?"

 

* * *

 

  
The Great Hall echoed with its emptiness, too lonely even for him, so he took his quick breakfast in his own chambers. Lily may be without a wand, but that didn't guarantee that she would stay. She was exceptionally gifted at Wandless magic, as she had demonstrated yesterday. Even as a child, she had shown remarkable control over her Accidental Magic.

He stopped abruptly when he found his path blocked. Draco stood in front of him determinedly, with some tiny dragon crawling along his tense shoulders. "You've found Harry. Take me to him."

"It may be summer, but I am still your professor, and as such, do not take orders from you." He moved around him, but the boy ran back to block him again.

"You can't keep him from me."

"I'm not. I'm keeping you from him. Do you not remember how he reacted yesterday? It's highly likely that the Dark Lord has conditioned his mind to fear you." A horrible and clever punishment for the traitor. The Dark Lord's cruelty knew no bounds.

Draco looked dismayed, staring down somewhere at his legs. "So I can never see him again?"

"We are working to fix him. Right now, she won't let anybody near him. It's for the best that you stay put until we can get this all sorted."

"Wait, 'she?'" But Severus ignored him, pushing past him for the final time.

He made his way to the Whomping Willow. The morning was as hot as the afternoons, the sun blazing down with no recourse. He cast several Cooling Charms on himself. The great thing about being a wizard was that he could wear whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. And he could also get past bloody trees.

 _"Immobulus!"_ The willow halted its threatening movements, and Severus allowed himself a moment to breathe. Logically, he knew that the danger was gone, that the werewolf no longer howled inside the Shrieking Shack, but he still couldn't control his aversion to this place. It was almost as if there were a compulsion there to drive away onlookers. He wouldn't let such a minor thing keep him from Lily.

Chin up, he descended into the secret tunnel and traveled its dark passage by wandlight. When he climbed his way up the basement and into the shack proper, he was amazed to find Potter sitting in the living room, eating a crumpet with jam and sharing hard-boiled eggs with a house-elf. He recognized it as the one that Lucius Malfoy had unwittingly freed. What was its name again? Floppy? Moppy? Who even named house-elves anyways? Why did they sound like dog names? At the sight of him, the house-elf squeaked and snapped out of existence.

Lily looked up at him, and despite the way they had left things, smiled at him. "Hello, Severus. The house-elves here have been so nice to provide me with meals. Especially that one in particular; Dobby, I believe his name was. He was telling me all about my Harry. He rescued him from those awful Malfoys. He's such a sweet boy. Would you like some?" She offered him the tray of eggs.

Apparently, their fight from before was forgotten. He chose not to look a gift unicorn in the mouth. Shaking his head, he took the ripped armchair across from her.

"Have you ever been to the beach?" She seemed strangely chipper, compared to last time.

"We live on an island. Of course I have."

"Harry hasn't." So that meant that he had been asleep his entire time at the château. Then the place had only been used to taunt Draco further, and never as a Death Eater hideout. Not surprising. "Oh, sure, his relatives went to the beach on holiday plenty of times, but Harry was never allowed to go. He had to stay at home. All alone."

She set her crumpet down, her smile gone. "He's suffered so much, and I couldn't protect him."

"You did protect him. He's still alive."

She looked him dead in the eye. "For how long?"

Severus couldn't answer that. Hopefully, for longer than the Dark Lord.

They sat in silence for a while, neither eating. He had so many things he wanted to talk to her about, but now that she was here, wearing her son's body, he found it hard to speak. She folded her hands in her lap primly, shoulders slouched.

"Why do you hate Harry?"

"I don't hate him." As soon as he said the words, he knew them to be true. Potter annoyed him to no end, but he didn't hate him.

"Then why are you so cruel to him?" Unwillingly, the foreign memory of a meaty hand wrapping around his ankle came to mind. He shivered in disgust. "Is it so hard for you think of him as my son and not James'?"

Not at all. "I would rather he be my son."

She smiled at that. "If that were true, he wouldn't be Harry."

"Exactly. So how could I like Potter's spawn?"

Her smile fell. "...Do you know why Harry resists you? Why he talks back and fights? He wants your approval."

He scoffed, but she shot him a scathing glare.

"Is that so hard to believe? When everyone looks at him, all they see is James Potter. Even his own godfather only used him as a replacement for his best friend. You're the only one who knew about his mother growing up. You could have guided him, could have turned him away from the same path as James."

Albus' words tickled the back of his mind. Hope would always be his downfall.

"Everyone has always sung James' praises to him. How could you expect him to believe you over his father's best friends? Surely they knew him better? After seeing that memory, he understands. He didn't know, Severus. _He didn't know_."

His lips thinned. "Does it make any difference? How could you have married him, Lily?"

"People change, Severus. You're the one who taught me that."

He tasted something bitter.

Lily sighed, sounding so old for coming from a teenager's lips. "If you can't love him for being my son, then can't you love him just for being Harry?"

He meshed his fingers together and squeezed. He didn't answer.

With a mournful shake of her head, she stood up. His heart skidded a beat, and he jumped out of his chair. "Lily, please, don't go."

"Just think on it, Severus. You'll find me again."

She moved towards the door, but he grabbed her arm, so small in his hand. "I never meant to hurt anyone, Lily. Please believe me. I just wanted to be free." Free from humiliation, free from his horrible Muggle father, free from fear.

"And just how free do you feel right now?"

His hand slowly dropped from her arm, and she left.

 

* * *

 

  
He didn't see her for the rest of the day. It felt as if he were chasing a ghost. He knew that she would not return to the Shrieking Shack any longer, and would only present herself to him when she felt they had more to talk about. He knew that they should probably summon the mutt to deal with her, they had been friends after all, but a selfish part of Severus wanted to keep her here forever. Would that really be so terrible?

He had thought a castle without children would be peaceful, but he supposed over his many years at Hogwarts, he had grown used to the background noise. _"I would rather he be my son."_ Would he really? Sure, he would rather he be married to Lily in James' place, but would he want a child together? Severus had only grown to detest children the more he taught.

His musing was interrupted by the soft sound of chatter. Confused, because there were only three other people in the castle at the moment aside from him, he doubled back to look through the open doors of the Great Hall. Sitting on one of the tables was Draco, dragon still on his shoulder, but now he had added a snowy white owl to his little menagerie. The bird stood on his knees, hooting happily as he fed her treats. The chatter had come from the boy, talking nonsense to the owl, as if she were capable of conversation. The owl looked familiar, but he didn't remember Draco ever owning a white owl before.

With a frown, he realized that the owl was Potter's, and he stomped away, a sour taste in his mouth.

 

* * *

 

Severus sat across from Poppy's humble desk, the apple floating in its stasis bubble between the two of them. He could sense no foul magic from it, but it still unnerved him.

Poppy tapped her wand on the bubble and it rotated so that the bite mark was facing him. "The apple was poisoned, although I found nothing in Potter's system. I don't think he ever took a bite out of that apple at all. I believe he was magically spelled asleep."

He nodded. "I suspect it was left there more as a message than as evidence." As were the serpents. "What was it poisoned with?"

She looked a little green around the gills. "The Drink of Despair."

His stomach sank, though he kept his face carefully blank. The Drink of Despair was a complicated and very Dark potion that forced its drinker to suffer unbearable pain and to relive their worst memories. He had once heard it described as being burned alive whilst being fed on by Dementors. Sure, it may not have been in Potter's system now, but that did not mean that the Dark Lord hadn't used it on the boy at all. Leaving it in the apple for them to find, it was all a part of the message. A taunt and a threat. Still, the Dark Lord had not called upon him to brew this potion, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the message was meant as much for him as it was for Draco.

 

* * *

 

He delved into ancient tomes and the latest manuscripts. There had to be some answer somewhere. Some way he could extract Lily from Potter, maybe even give her new life. Perhaps she was like a ghost possessing a person, though such a thing was incredibly rare. Setting aside his drained cup of tea, he closed the book he had been reading to exchange it for another one on the far side of his desk. Yes, perhaps the possession route is the one he should go down.

A chill had seeped into his office, and he shivered. It may be the middle of Summer, but the dungeons always kept cool. He flicked his wand over to the fireplace, and flames sprung to life on the logs resting there. Satisfied, he returned to his reading.

_Clink!_

He paused.

 _Clink! Clink!_ The unmistakable rattle of chains. He didn't even have to hear the groaning to know that when he turned around, he would spot a gaunt face with a blank stare. "Bloody Baron, to what do I owe this honor?"

The ghost, a man in bloodied robes with chains wrapped around his body, stared at him as if he could see right through him, as if Severus were the ghost. As Head of Slytherin House, he'd had some interaction with the spectre, but the Bloody Baron had a morbid and grim air about him (even for a ghost) that drove off others, which he seemed perfectly happy with. Rarely did he seek out others.

The Baron floated in front of him, just staring, and for a moment, Severus wondered if he had even heard him. "I have been watching you, boy."

He frowned. "Oh? And what has grabbed your interest recently?"

"I have been watching you ever since you were sorted into Slytherin's House." Well, that was comforting. "Death gives you perspective."

Severus waited, but the ghost wasn't forthcoming. What had he bothered him for? On the other hand, this might be a blessing in disguise. Why skim through books when he can get a firsthand account. "Tell me, Baron, how does one become a ghost? What tethers you to this plane?"

"Remorse. Greed. Fear of retribution." Strong emotions, unfinished business. He had read that a strong fear of death can cause one to become a ghost. Lily, his brave little Gryffindor, would suffer no such fear. Perhaps strong emotional ties? If her love could save her son, maybe it would trap her, at least a part of her, on the Earth.

"Would you like to hear the tale of my death?"

Severus startled at that. Deaths were a sensitive subject for ghosts, and no one had known how the Bloody Baron had died. He always assumed, from his gaunt face and bloody chains, that the man had been tortured to death. He nodded.

"There are many sins which plague wizardkind. For all our power, we are as subject to the whims of our emotions as that of the lesser class. Greed and obsession were my sins." He looked up, his eyes staring at something Severus could not see. "She was the most exquisite creature, with skin like fresh milk and hair as dark as the olives of Greece. But her mind... Never has this world seen such brilliance. Helena, my Grey Lady." The Ravenclaw ghost?

The Bloody Baron gestured to the crimson upon his robes. "Passion runs in the blood, the flaming liquid of life that boils inside all of us. Mine ran hotter than most. Obsession, greed, this need to own a person, to make myself a god in their eyes, to worship them privately, their name a prayer on my lips, and mine on theirs." He looked up directly into Severus' eyes. "This is not Love. Love is giving, Love is a one-sided act. It is not in its nature reciprocal. To love is to offer yourself up on the altar of their name. Do you understand? Can you?" He tilted his head to the side, his stare unblinking.

It took a while to process the poetry of his words, but eventually dawning lit up his face. "That blood is not yours," he looked at the red stains on his clothes, "It's hers."

The ghost nodded somberly. "Love is giving, and all I did was take. It doesn't matter how hot my heart burned with passion, it doesn't matter that I would have moved mountains, sacrificed the world for her. What matters is that I took her choices from her. For as much as I claimed to love her mind, I didn't think her capable of choosing a partner for herself. And that," he lifted his arms a fraction to display the iron chains wrapped around his body, "is why I wrapped myself in chains, why I no longer deserve any choice." His arms fell down to his sides, the rattle of the chains like a wind chime. "Death gives you perspective, boy."

Severus swallowed thickly. So the Bloody Baron had once been in love with the Grey Lady, and then, in a crime of passion, had murdered her. He had no idea the ghosts of Hogwarts had such a history together, since most of them were from vastly different times in history. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I told you before that I have been watching you. This is because you remind me a lot of myself. Greedy, selfish, vain. There are chains around your heart as real as the ones I bear." The ghost moaned, something soul-deep that tore at Severus' gut. "Welcome Death as an equal, with your head held high, with pride." The ghost passed through him, which left a horrible coldness under his skin. "Welcome Death. Welcome Death," the ghost chanted until he passed through a wall and out of sight.

The tea sat heavy in his empty stomach. Had he really wished this eternal discord on Lily? Had he been so desperate for any part of her, that he would truly wish for her soul to be rent into pieces and imprisoned on this earth forever? He reached for his teacup, only to forget that it had already been emptied. He wondered if the presence of ghosts made all tea leaves take the form of a Grim.

 

* * *

 

  
If the castle hadn't been empty, he never would have done it. Even as he lay on the grass looking up at the sun filtering through the leaves of the nearby hawthorn tree, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was going to walk in on him looking like a fool. He hadn't done this since he and Lily had attended Hogwarts for the first time. Even now, he kept looking to his side to find no one there. They used to lie for hours in the grass, pointing out shapes in the clouds, using their magic to make the leaves dance, and talking about everything. They would talk about fun potions, useful spells, what they wanted to be when they grew up. Lily had wanted to study all magic, to know everything there was to know. He just wanted to help her accomplish her dream.

A lark flew over head, landing on one of the branches of the tree and singing merrily. With a disgusted snarl, he pointed his wand at the branch and shook it. The bird tweeted in shock, wings flapping frantically, before it stumbled and fell off. It quickly caught itself on the air and flew away.

_The broom bucked and thrashed like a wild horse trying to dismount its rider. The boy held on by just one hand, nearly slipping twice, and each time, Severus chanted faster. Whoever was jinxing Potter's broom was incredibly powerful._

So many times over the years he fought to save the boy's life. And so many times the boy had looked at him in disdain. He had no right to expect gratitude when he worked carefully to keep his true actions in the shadows, and yet it still grated on his nerves whenever Potter would disrespect him. He was arrogant, foolish, and self-centered. But maybe not all of the time.

 _"People change, Severus."_ But not him. He still felt like that same boy, just barely an adult, raging against his world. Still felt like that day he did when he realized that Lord Voldemort was going to kill the only person who had ever shown him any love. What had Potter shown her to make her want to marry him? Had he given her choice? Freedom? Had they become the partners in life that Severus had so desperately yearned for? He didn't care what anyone said, James Potter did not deserve her.

A green leaf detached from a branch above him and drifted lazily downwards. He caught it in his lifted hand, closed his fingers around it, and when he uncurled them, a single tiny lily of the valley replaced it. He let the wind pick it up and carry it away. The world did not need Lily Evans. The world needed Harry Potter.

"She's not real. Lily Evans welcomed Death."

 

* * *

 

To his immense shock, when he had gone to the library to replace his useless books on life after death, he found Potter sitting at one of the tables in the library, legs crossed at the ankles, and cheek resting on his knuckles idly. He flipped through a book that looked even older than himself.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed at him. "What if Draco saw you?"

He looked like a frightened cat. "Don't say that name!"

"He's not going to hurt you. Whatever visions Voldemort showed you are false."

"You know nothing of what I saw." The venom in his voice was dark and potent, and it gave Severus pause to hear it from Potter's lips.

"Then tell me."

Potter shook his head, closing the book he had been reading. "I can't. I don't even remember most of it, but I know that I don't want to. It hurts Harry."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the task ahead. "You need to let Harry go."

His green eyes were bright and determined. "No, I can't. He needs me."

"No, he doesn't. He's grown into a very capable wizard."

Potter stood up, and despite Severus towering over the boy, he still felt like he were staring down a dragon. "I won't leave him all alone again. He's just a boy. He can't fight some all-powerful Dark wizard on his own. I have to protect him."

"But he's not alone. He has the Order, Albus, his godfather--Merlin, even his friends. We will protect him."

He shook his head, fists clenched at his sides. "No, no, even with all of those people he still got hurt. He still got taken."

"That doesn't mean you should take over his life. Are you going to protect him by stuffing him in a cupboard somewhere and locking him away?"

He gasped, hands flying to his mouth in horror. Those _Avada Kedavra_ green eyes widening. Had they always been that green, or was part of the Killing Curse still inside of him? "No...I..." Slowly he sunk back into his chair. Severus' heart, a thing he had thought long dead, twinged in pain. "It's so scary out there..."

He kneeled on the ground before him, taking Potter's small hands, not yet the hands of a man, and bidding him to look him in the eye. "You have to let him live, Lily."

He sniffled. "...You'll protect him, won't you, Severus? You'll love him where I can't?"

"I have been all this time."

"You have, haven't you?" He wiped his tears away, knocking his glasses askew momentarily, and sudden fear gripped Severus' heart. He had never gotten to say good-bye to her last time, and this would be his chance, even if none of it was real.

He couldn't bear to look at those eyes, so he rested his forehead against the boy's knees, as if in prayer. "I've always loved you."

"I know." He felt a pressure on his hair, and realized that he had just been kissed. "But you can't let that keep you trapped anymore. You should be free, Severus. Even from me." Then the serene smile faded away, until Potter--no, Harry looked as blank as a doll. Severus stayed on the floor, cradling his hands in his own, as he said good-bye to Lily, one last time.

"If I go, would that please you?" His voice held no inflection.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, and for the second time, he killed Lily Evans. "Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's it going so far?


	3. Albus' Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Symphony No. 3 in F Major: III by Johannes Brahms  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2tB2SLLnPZg

Albus liked to think he was a humble man, that he understood his own faults and weaknesses. Staring at this blank-faced boy, this empty shell, he saw his own arrogance, his own mistakes staring back at him with dull green eyes.

"I don't know what's wrong with him." Severus hadn't sounded this lost since he had promised his eternal servitude to him. Really, the only thing that separated Albus from Voldemort was that he didn't leave a Mark. "I...I did what you said, and sent...her away, but it's like..."

....like there was nothing left.

Harry stared at them impassively, standing under his own power, but that seemed to be the most expression he could handle. This was not the careful mask of one hiding their true emotions, but a deep void, negative space. Nothing had ever terrified him more. "Harry, my dear boy, what has happened to you...?"

The boy blinked once and then said mechanically, "Constant Legilimency attacks, starvation and neglect, both mental and physical abuse--"

"Please stop." Albus' voice sounded strained even to his own ears. He didn't want to hear his sins parroted at him with all the inflection of an encyclopedia.

Harry's mouth clamped shut, betraying no sign of irritation at being interrupted. He betrayed nothing at all.

Severus turned to him with a fierce looking face that would have sent many of his students skittering in fear, but Albus had known this man a long time, and knew which scowls were out of worry. "Albus, he needs a Mind Healer. We have to send him to St. Mungo's."

"No," he said with too much vehemence. "No, we can trust no one outside of this castle."

"Albus, none of us are equipped for this."

Still he shook his head, a feeling he didn't dare call paranoia in his heart. Harry had already been taken right from under his nose. Twice, actually. "Do you think Voldemort has not considered that we might do just that? That he might have infiltrated the hospital?"

"To what purpose? He already had the boy at his mercy."

At that moment, the door burst open and a frantic Draco Malfoy rushed in, his eyes honing in on Harry at once. "Harry!" He launched himself at the boy, and both Albus and Severus tensed, ready for the terrified screams, ready to banish him from the office.

But no screams came. Draco threw his arms around Harry, pulling him into a tearful embrace. It was not returned. Sensing something wrong, Draco pulled back, searching a blank face. "Harry?"

The boy didn't answer.

Draco turned to look at them over a slack shoulder. "What have you done to him? Is this why you wouldn't let me see him?"

He and Severus shared a look.

Draco turned back to Harry, cradling his cheeks in his hands. "Harry, what's wrong? Speak to me."

"What would you like me to say?"

"...Harry?" The boy looked exactly as he had done on that day he cried in his office, pleading with him in a fragile voice to _"Please, bring Harry back, just bring him back to me."_ "No, no, this is all wrong. I got you back. I saved you! You're supposed to throw your arms around me and tell me how much you love me, and we go on living happily." Such sweet naiveté. He never wanted any of his students to lose their pure and childish optimism.

"Would that please you?" Something about Harry's words struck a chord in Severus, for his ponderous look melted into one of horrific realization.

"Yes, of course--" Young Malfoy's words were cut off by stiff arms wrapping automatically around his shoulders.

"I love you," Harry spoke with absolutely no inflection, his face blank, almost bored, but even that was too much emotion for him as he stared over Draco's trembling shoulders.

Severus interrupted the tragic scene with a harsh bark. "Harry, release Mr. Malfoy and hop twice on your left foot."

Both he and Draco turned to give the Potions professor a curious look at such an odd command, but to both of their astonishment, the boy did just that. Harry unwrapped his arms from Draco, took a single step back, and then lifted his right leg a fraction so that he could hop easily on his left foot. Once, twice, and then both feet returned to the floor.

Albus realized the horrible epiphany that Severus had reached. "He will obey any command? He has no will of his own?"

Severus nodded, his face molded into its normal neutral mask, but it was rife with sentiment compared to Harry's empty face. "I wonder if perhaps this wasn't the Dark Lord's intent all along? To mold him into the perfect servant, his most loyal Death Eater. He just couldn't get past Lily on his own."

A diabolical plot to be sure, but something didn't sit right... "Harry would be no use to him like this. He will obey anyone's orders."

Severus turned a critical eye on Harry. "Potter, if I tell you to obey only my commands and no one else's, will you do so?"

Harry turned his green eyes towards Severus. "Would that please you?"

Severus made a face that seemed to say No, it would not.

"What are you two doing?" Draco stepped in between Harry and the adults. "Treating him like he's some kind of experiment... This is Harry!"

"No, I don't think it is," Severus snapped back. He never did appreciate back-talk. "At least, not completely. Harry, do you remember who you were before this? Do you remember being Lily?"

Harry turned to face him. "Yes."

"How many more of you are there?"

"There is only one of me."

Severus shook his head. "No, how many more personalities do you have?"

Draco looked horrified, his mouth hanging open silently. Harry answered coolly. "I do not know."

"So there are more barriers?" Albus thought aloud. "He developed different personalities to protect his mind from Voldemort? If we were to banish these other personalities as you did to Lily, Severus, then perhaps we could find the real Harry at the center?"

"But who knows how many there are? When I looked into his mind, I saw so many different pieces..."

Suddenly, Draco stepped forward, tugging Harry behind him. "I don't care how many there are. I will save Harry."

He smiled softly. Love was a strange and powerful magic. It saved Harry once, and it would save him again. "I have no doubt that you will, my boy. If anyone can get to Harry, I believe it will be you. Yes, I think we should bring in Harry's friends and family. I find that the presence of loved ones can be very healing."

Severus stepped forward. "Are you sure that is wise, Albus? Even the most well-intentioned words could cause harm in his state."

Albus held up a hand to stop the man's worries. "We will of course inform them of his predicament. And I believe keeping it to just his closest confidants will suffice. Say, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger? And I'm sure Sirius will find out sooner or later and bring himself to us." The young Black was fierce in all of his emotions and they usually bled together. He had no doubt he would be getting quite the stern talking-to once Sirius found out about how long they had had Harry in Hogwarts.

 

* * *

 

  
Honestly, Albus was surprised nothing had been thrown at him yet. Sirius' rage was potent, fueled by his grief, and yet hampered by it as well. From what the young Malfoy had told him, this is the first time he had left his room since Harry went missing. He would deserve it if anything was thrown.

"Why would you keep him hidden from me? You had him all this time?" Sirius held his wand in his fist, though he had yet to use it.

"No, we only found him a couple of days ago. His condition is...fragile." He kept his hands folded in front of him. A seemingly calm gesture, but it was as much a barrier against the Animagus' wrath as his desk was. "He wouldn't let anyone near him. And given his reaction to Mr. Malfoy..."

"Was that really Lily? Is he really so broken?" A fresh wave of pity surged through him for this man. Twelve years in Azkaban, and then his lover dying along with his godson kidnapped... It's a wonder he didn't break from the stress. The world was truly cruel to Sirius Black.

"All broken things can be fixed. He needs the support of those who love him."

"Just don't order him to do anything." The smile on Sirius' face was twisted and grim. His head fell into his hands, dirty fingernails carding through greasy hair. "How long had I locked myself in my room while Harry was suffering under that madman? I've failed you, James, Lily." And then quieter this time. "It's probably for the best that I didn't see her."

Albus swallowed down his own heartbreak, and put a wrinkled hand on quivering shoulders. "You had just lost Remus. No one can fault you for your grief."

"But I should have been there. I should have gone after Harry. I should have protected him. I should have-"

"There are a lot of things we all should have done, but crying over them will not help Harry now." Sirius looked up at him with stormy grey eyes. "He needs you, Sirius. You're all he has left."

"You're right. You're right." Sirius wiped his eyes, but they were still red, made more pronounced by the dark bags under them. "I have to be there for him." With a nod, he shrugged off Albus' hand and left.

How low of him to push the responsibility onto someone else.

 

* * *

 

  
He never did like Hogwarts during the summer. The castle was too quiet, too empty. He longed for the bustling noise of cheerful children. Without their bright enthusiasm and optimism, he found little to distract himself from his own fatalistic thoughts. Times like these would pull out his dreaded melancholia, an illness that had plagued him ever since his sister had been murdered. So many times, he found himself assaulted by what ifs. What if his father had never gone to Azkaban? What if his sister had never died? What if he had never met Gellert? Or even worse, what if he had never turned against him, had instead fallen into his own temptation? Would Voldemort have even come to pass if another Dark wizard already ruled? Would Harry have been hurt as he was now? Albus would like to think that eventually, he wouldn't be able to stand Gellert's obvious manipulation of his feelings, even if he didn't realize that their path was the wrong one. But he knew how deep the ache for love ran, how addictive the attentions of a handsome man could be.

He truly wept for Sirius. Was it worse to have never known mutual love like his, or to have known it, and yet lose it anyway? Over a hundred years old, and still he made a mess of things. As always, he felt that pull towards his pensieve, as dangerous as the Mirror of Erised for him. Oh how he longed to lose himself in memories of his foolish youth, even as they burned him.

But no. He couldn't afford to lose himself to the past when he had yet to secure the future. Hermione Granger barricaded herself behind a wall of books, fervently searching for answers amongst the pages. If only it were that easy. How nice life would be if all of its solutions could just be found in books. Still he recognized the act for being as much a coping mechanism as well as a goal. Beside her, Ron tried to play chess with a blank Harry. Even in his current state, it seemed that the boy was still no match for Mr. Weasley. Inappropriately, Albus thought Harry should probably try playing poker instead.

And poor Mr. Malfoy, mourning the loss of his lover even as he fought to save him. He was a constant shadow at Harry's side, his face as gaunt and grim as the Bloody Baron's. Which one of them was more pathetic? He shook his head to fling off such dark thoughts and left the Great Hall. What a state the world was in when children held it together better than the adults.

He may have made many mistakes in his life, but he'd be damned if he let them take away Harry.

 

* * *

 

  
"I'd like for you to recount your time with Voldemort, please." He thought perhaps holding this conversation (interrogation) in Gryffindor tower might make the boy more comfortable, but he still sat like a statue on the armchair. He felt like a coward for using Harry's condition to learn all he could, but on the other hand, it might even be the best time. If he truly couldn't feel anything, then it wouldn't hurt him to relive his trauma, right?

"My account will not be accurate," Harry answered, meeting his eyes. "I spent most of the time inside my own head, so I couldn't tell what was reality or Voldemort's illusions."

Albus nodded. "How did you fight him off? How have you retained your sanity, so to speak?"

"Professor Snape and I had come up with an idea during our Occlumency lessons to focus on a single thought to cover up all of the others. It didn't work at first, which is how Voldemort was able to possess me at the Department of Mysteries. I later realized I needed a stronger thought. I thought of Draco first. But he turned those thoughts into ones of fear. Then I thought of Ron and Hermione, but he took away the joy from my memories. Then I thought of you, professor." Albus startled. He never thought the boy would turn to him in such desperate trouble, but of course he did. He knew how much the boy looked up to him. "But Voldemort stole my faith. Then I called out to my mother, and she saved me. Voldemort was unable to defeat her. After seven failed attempts, he put me into a coma. I didn't hear the spell. When I woke up, I was in the hospital wing."

"Harry, before you told us that you didn't know how many personalities there were. And yet you can recall what happened?"

"Yes." That wasn't much of an explanation. He felt like he had all the clues, and yet could not piece it together. Were there perhaps only two personalities? Or maybe they shared some memories between them? The mind was a complicated organ, and neither wizards nor Muggles fully understood it. Perhaps they really should call for a Mind Healer, but in this volatile time, there were very few who he could trust. He couldn't let Harry fall into Tom's clutches again.

His eyes flickered towards Harry, and how strange that it should be he who could not maintain eye contact. He'd probably regret his next question, but he'd always had a morbid curiosity. "You said you thought of me. What did you think of me, Harry?"

Harry blinked once. "I thought you would save me."

That stung. He blinked away tears. No one wanted to see an old man cry. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have ever let you be taken. Please forgive me."

"Would that please you?" There it was again, that strange phrase of his. Something about it stuck out to him, like he were looking at a painting without his spectacles. He just couldn't form the thought.

"No, not like this."

 

* * *

 

  
"I can't stay here," Sirius hung his head, running a hand through his dark locks, only to have them snag on a knot. With a grumble, he pulled his fingers out and let them fall uselessly to his hips. "Filch is still here, and anyone could just drop by..."

"Of course, Sirius," Albus answered softly. The other man looked so tense, so wound up, and yet so weak all at the same time. He wondered how much more this poor man could endure before he eventually broke. "You will not be able to help Harry if you end up in Azkaban. You can always send him letters."

"Don't know how much help I am to him out of Azkaban, either. Just...please keep me updated. Can I use your Floo?"

"You are not going to say goodbye to Harry first?"

Sirius swallowed loudly, his strained eyes darting away from his. "I don't think I can. I'm so sorry, Albus."

"No, don't be."

And then Sirius left in a flash of green flame.

 

* * *

 

  
Mealtimes were bleak affairs. Only a couple of the castle's sparse inhabitants ever showed up at the Great Hall at the appointed time. Albus found it difficult to break his school time routine, and so he always sat in the Headmaster's chair at the front of the Great Hall, looking out at three heads sitting at the Gryffindor table. He was not surprised to find that Harry only had the company (supervision) of Dobby the elf and Draco Malfoy. Sirius had admitted to him before how taxing it was to remain in Harry's presence. Draco, however, refused to leave his side. Offhandedly, he wondered when the Malfoy boy's breaking point would be.

Suddenly, Draco started yelling, slamming his hands down on the table. It took Albus entirely too long to make his way over to him. The Great Hall was too large for only four people. Perhaps he should just break habit and sit at the Gryffindor table with the others. It might even feel nostalgic and remind him of his days as a student. He shook his head of these thoughts when he took in the scene before him.

Young Malfoy looked ready to throttle the house-elf, and he angrily shoved an enormous pile of treacle tart off of the table. Rather shocking manners for one of his breeding. With a wave of his wand, the mess was Vanished. "You stupid elf, you could have killed him."

Dobby was a sobbing mess, made even worse by the largeness of his watery eyes. "Dobby is sorry, young Master Malfoy. Dobby only wanted to feed Harry Potter his favorite foods. Dobby only wanted to make him happy."

Draco was unswayed by the pathetic sight. "Don't you understand that he won't say no to you? He would have kept eating your bloody tarts until he exploded."

"Oh, Dobby is a bad elf." With a loud thud, he smashed his forehead into the table repeatedly, and Albus hurried to stop him.

"Stop, Dobby, you didn't realize you were causing any harm. And Mr. Malfoy, don't take out your frustration on my staff, please." The young Malfoy pouted, choosing to ignore Albus in favor of wiping stray crumbs off of Harry's impassive face. His attitude had declined ever since they got Harry back, but he couldn't find it in himself to punish the boy. "Mr. Malfoy, I would like to discuss something privately with Mr. Potter here, if you wouldn't mind leaving him in my care."

Instantly, Draco's hand tightened on Harry's arm, and he half wondered if the boy just might whisk him away. "I can't leave Harry alone. He needs me."

"I'd say you could use the break."

"I'm not going to run away like Black." The vitriol in those words shocked Albus, and now he thought for sure that he had to separate the two of them.

"He did not run away. He had to go. His unfortunate circumstances don't allow him to stay outside of Grimmauld Place for very long. And you will be of no use to Harry if you have a breakdown from all of the stress. I can assure you that no harm will befall Harry under my care."

"It's not like it didn't happen before."

To think a mere sixteen year old boy could hurt him so. But he wouldn't let harmful words stop him. "You can rely on others, Mr. Malfoy. You are not in this alone. And I'm afraid that I am not requesting. I am still Headmaster of Hogwarts, and as such, in charge of all who reside here. I will return Harry to you before nightfall, I promise. Until then, I suggest you go and relax." He put his hand on Harry's shoulder firmly and hit the boy with his hardest stare.

Draco eventually released his hold on Harry, and stood up. At least he hadn't lost all sense of authority. Very reluctantly, the blond shuffled out of the Great Hall.

With the boy out of sight, Albus removed his hand from Harry's shoulder. "Follow me, Harry." Silently, he led him all the way up to the seventh floor, and silently Harry followed. Some of the paintings greeted him along the way, contrastingly cheery. He wondered if he would be like that too, once his portrait was inevitably erected in the Headmaster's office. But these were not the portrait he wanted to show Harry.

He stopped in front of a blank stretch of stone wall, and turned to regard his silent companion. "Do you know where we are, Harry?"

"Yes."

"The Room of Requirement," he explained unnecessarily. "You and your friends used this Room for your DA meetings. But as you know, the Room will change depending on the needs of its occupant. There is one little room which I have acquired for myself." When he turned to look back at the wall, it now sported a plain, whitewashed door like one might see in a simple cottage, not an elaborate castle. Albus turned the pewter door handle to reveal a large, but sparse chamber with enchanted windows that let in bright sunshine. The only contents of the room were a comfortable navy blue armchair and a large portrait of a young fair-haired girl.

Harry showed no sign of wonder or curiosity at the room.

"A mysterious enchantment, this Room. I always wondered who created it. An old friend of mine believed something so ingenious had to have come from Rowena Ravenclaw, but a room that only appears to those who need it? Sounds more like Hufflepuff, if you ask me." Harry did not return his playful wink or grin, and both fell from his face.

"I have someone I would like to introduce to you, Harry." He led the boy over to the portrait. The young girl, holding her favorite book _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ , smiled sweetly, but vacantly at them, as if they were strangers to her. "This is my sister Ariana. Ariana, this is Harry Potter."

"Hello, Harry, it is nice to meet you," Ariana's voice was as soft as the summer breeze.

Harry didn't respond, or even make any acknowledgement that he had even heard her.

Ariana turned a quizzical face to him. "What's wrong? Is he sick?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Ah, so he's like me then."

Albus' smile was strained. "Yes, but his circumstances are a little different. I hope to help him." '...Where I couldn't help you.' He shook his head. No use getting bogged down in regrets.

"You see, Harry, my sister had a special condition. When she was six, a group of Muggle boys in our village saw her practising magic, and it scared them, so they attacked her." He looked up to Ariana, but she did not cringe or cower at his words, only smiled at them as if she couldn't hear a word they were saying but wanted to appear like she was paying attention. "It traumatised her, and she was never the same since. She repressed her magic, which caused it to lash out in unpredictable ways, and her moods would change like the winds. Our father had sought revenge on the boys who had done that to her, and was sentenced to life in Azkaban for his crimes. That left my brother and my mother to take care of her, while I ran off to school."

He had to admit, the story was less fun to tell with an unresponsive audience. He imagined the real Harry would have been shocked and appalled at learning the truth of his hero. How cowardly of him to take advantage of his current state to unload his burdens. "Eventually, her magic lashed out one day and killed our mother. I had to return home to care for Ariana then. I was a stupid youth back then. I had many ambitions, and I felt my sister was a burden." He couldn't bear to look at her portrait.

"Is that how you think of me? Am I a burden?" He almost didn't believe Harry had spoke. His face remained blank, but this had been the first time he had spoken outside of a command.

Even with the harsh words, Albus felt a thrill of victory run through him. "No, not a burden. More like a chess piece. At least, at first. I recognized who you were and what your role in our new world would be, but I will admit to growing fond of you along the way. I do believe that is one of your most powerful traits: the ability to make people love you. Even Professor Snape seems to have grown rather attached to you." He chuckled softly to himself.

The smile on his face, staring somewhere at the boy's trainers, slid off. He didn't speak immediately, but when he did, his voice had fallen to a near whisper. "After I had struck up a companionship with Gellert, my brother had objected to our plans to take over the Wizarding world. We got into a fight, spells were thrown, and my sister... I think she had been trying to stop it, or perhaps all the flashing lights and the loud noise had upset her." He looked up, but Ariana would not look at him. "I never knew which of us had cast the spell that had killed her. Either way, I cannot help but blame myself for her death."

With a sigh, he looked back towards Harry. His face remained neutral, but he'd like to believe that something shifted behind those green eyes. "I am no savior, Harry. We all start out selfish, I believe. Kindness, sympathy...those are learned traits, and I don't think I ever fully got that lesson. I have spent the rest of my life trying to make up for my sister's death all for entirely selfish reasons. For the greater good, I am willing to manipulate a young boy.

"But you...you have always shone love and sympathy towards others. You have given me true loyalty, and I do not deserve it. I told you I would protect you, but my actions have done nothing but bring you pain." When he fell to his knees before Harry, who was no longer a small boy, he had to look up to meet his cool eyes. "I am so sorry, Harry. I can't..." He choked on his words, tears rising up and spilling over his sagging cheeks. "I can't save you. I'm not strong enough. I'm just an old fool filled with regret." The years weighed heavily upon his shoulders, pushing him down and bending his spine. His body was made up entirely of it, that bittersweet remorse. It was in every pore, it made his skin sag with the load, and he wondered at what point it should fall off his creaking bones entirely.

"I wish I knew how to save you," he murmured to Harry's feet. "But I...I can't choose you, not over the rest of the world. I'm sorry."

Harry didn't say anything.

 

* * *

 

  
After his little confessional, Albus found it difficult to face Harry. He didn't know what he had expected, spilling this unsightly side of himself to the boy. Perhaps he wanted forgiveness. Maybe even punishment. But to receive nothing in return... He couldn't stand it. He holed himself up in his office, pouring over memories, searching for perhaps some small clue that might help him save Harry. Both from Voldemort and Albus himself.

A knock at the door startled him from his malaise. "Come in."

To his surprise, the door opened to reveal a meek Draco Malfoy. "Excuse me, Professor, I just wanted a quick word with you."

"Of course, my dear boy." He left the pensieve to stand by his desk. With a wave of his hand he offered one of the chairs before it.

Draco declined with a shake of his head. "I won't be long. I just...wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. I shouldn't have taken my frustrations out on you."

Albus' eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Mr. Malfoy, I do believe you have matured. Thank you for apologizing to me, and of course, the matter is already forgotten."

Draco nodded, and Albus could see how well the break had done for him. His eyes seemed brighter and his shoulders something near relaxation. Not anywhere near happy, but hope burned strongly within him. Would the younger generation ever cease to amaze him? "You were right about trusting others. I kept trying to do everything alone, to put all of the burden on my shoulders, but...I have friends now, real friends. With all of us working together, I'm sure we'll find a way to cure Harry. All I had to do was ask."

Albus stood in awe. And there it was, the answer, coming out of the mouth of a sixteen year old boy. He felt like such an idiot. How could he have told Harry that he couldn't save him? How was that supposed to make the boy feel better? No, that had been about him trying to push the blame off of him and onto Harry for ever having believed in him. How sly he had been. "Draco, where is Harry right now?"

"He's with Ron and Hermione. Why?"

"Bring them to Gryffindor Tower. I will go retrieve Professor Snape. I have an idea."

Draco nodded eagerly, before dashing out of his office. He had no intention of bringing up the boy's hopes, but he couldn't seem to keep his own from rising.

After retrieving Severus from his own office, pouring over a large tome, he led the man up into Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady glared at him for letting in an outside party into the sanctity of her charge, but as Headmaster, he could do as he saw fit, as he reminded her.

The children were already inside, waiting for them.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione spoke up instantly. "What is this all about?"

Ronald chimed in next to her. "Do you know how to save Harry?"

"No, but I think I might know someone who might." He really hoped his hunch was correct. He'd hate to disappoint all of these people. "Please, everyone, have a seat."

Harry sat down on the sofa instantly, and his friends hesitantly sat down beside him. Severus took the open armchair, though he didn't relax into it. Albus magically moved one of the wooden chairs from the nearby table so that he faced the others, and sat down slowly. Their expectant looks bore into him.

With a large breath, he spoke. "Harry, why do you do whatever anyone tells you to do?" Severus' head whipped towards him, eyes wide. The thought must have never occurred to him to ask the boy, and to his immense surprise, Harry's eyes widened a fraction. It was minute, but still the most emotion they had seen out of him since Lily. Albus knew he was on the right track then.

"People get angry at me when I don't do what they say." Harry's face was blank, but his eyes held a flicker of something inside of them, and Albus snatched onto it like a drowning man to a lifesaver.

"So conversely, they will like you if you obey?"

Harry nodded. He'd never done that before. Only confirmed verbally when it was required of him. Severus looked ill. Perhaps his body was having a bad reaction to such sentiment flowing through him. He smiled briefly at the thought. Severus liked to think his heart was atrophied, but Albus knew how strongly it beat for love, how it cramped tightly when those he cared for were hurting, just as it did now.

"Oh, Harry..." Hermione held tightly onto his right hand, but to her credit, she didn't cry.

Albus rose out of his chair to cross the short distance to where Harry sat. He knelt before his knees, so that they were now both eye level. "Harry, my boy, you don't need to do whatever anyone says to get them to like you."

Harry's eyebrows pushed together. "Yes, I do. Disobeying orders has only caused trouble. If I had been more serious about my Occlumency lessons, I wouldn't have been taken."

"That wasn't your fault, Harry," Severus stepped in fiercely, though he remained in his seat, fingers digging into the upholstery. "My lessons were clearly not working, and I should have tried other avenues before."

"You were right, Professor. I wasn't putting as much effort into it as I could have."

"Because your teacher kept antagonizing you," Severus admitted. Albus felt a bit proud of him. It seems that Draco wasn't the only one who had grown up lately.

Harry shook his head stubbornly. "I was a bad kid. I broke so many rules. If I had obeyed, Remus wouldn't be dead. It's my fault, but..." He blinked with wet eyelashes. "I'll do whatever you ask, just...please love me. I'll be good, sir, I swear." His lower lip trembled, and Albus wondered that maybe it wasn't that Harry _couldn't_ feel anything, but that he chose not to. Now emotion flooded out of him in quivering shoulders and watery eyes. He looked so much like Ariana then, a small fragile thing.

His chest ached. "You don't have to obey every command in order to be loved, Harry. Our love for you isn't conditional. Even if we get mad at you, it doesn't mean we don't love you anymore."

"But you didn't choose me."

Albus had never wanted to use the Self-Flagellation Curse before, but he highly considered it. "I didn't. But these people," he gestured to the others, "they did."

"But if I had been good, then you would have loved me."

"I do love you, Harry, and that's why I said those things. I told you before that you have the power to make people love you. You do not need to be obedient in order to exercise that power; you just have to be yourself. You are perfect just the way you are. You're allowed to have feelings, Harry."

The boy worried his lower lip. "But if I do, they'll be used against me. He corrupted everything."

Draco answered this time with intensity. "Not everything. You're still you."

"I don't feel like me."

"I know, my boy." Albus squeezed Harry's knee reassuringly. "And we're working on that. But first, we'll need to meet the next personality."

"If..." Harry's eyes darted between all of them. "If I were to go away, would that please you?"

"Only if it would please _you_."

Harry was still for a moment before he nodded. "I want to be whole again." He looked up from his knees to gaze into Albus' eyes in that unabashed way of his. "And you'll still love me? Even if my other personalities are bad?"

"Of course we will, Harry. They are you."

A tear escaped out of closed eyes as Harry nodded. "Thank you." He kept them closed for a beat, and when he opened them, the crying stopped. Green eyes looked at all of them warily.

"And who are we speaking to now?" Severus asked carefully.

"I-I'm Harry, sir. Harry Potter. "

"Of course you are," Albus smiled kindly at him. "Do you remember your other personalities?"

"Others? I'm not anyone else. I'm just Harry." The boy's posture was tense, fingers curled into fists on his lap.

Severus looked to him, as Albus stood up, knees creaking painfully with the movement. "I don't suppose we could just ask what his problem is."

"I doubt it will be that easy. I suppose only time will tell what sorts of quirks he has developed. At least he's not screaming at the sight of us." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco's mouth pucker like he had just eaten a lemon.

"Umm, excuse me, sir." Harry's small voice drew their attention back to him. "Can I go home now? My aunt and uncle will be angry if I'm home late."

Albus paused, and tried to control the quickening pace of his heart. "Harry, how old are you?"

"I'm ten, sir. Please, I really should be home."


	4. Ron's Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concerto ~Brotherhood~ - FMA: Brotherhood by Senju Akira  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Br2RQ9KF-VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a double chapter update, since these two go together!

Ron could still remember that fateful day on the Hogwarts Express with crystal clarity. It was mere chance that he chose that particular compartment. The others had been full, and no one had looked particularly inviting. He had gotten quite tired of traipsing down the corridor, tugging his luggage along behind him, and then he had bumped his knee into the trolley witch's cart, and so had taken a moment to rub his sore knee, when he noticed the singularly occupied compartment. So many tiny, inconsequential factors that led to him sitting on the scratchy bench across from Harry Potter. Often he wondered what his life would have been like had he not sat next to him. Would he have become best friends with someone else, or would he always become friends with the Boy Who Lived? In his darker moments he wondered if he wouldn't have been happier for it.

He shook his head. No, Hermione was right. He needed to stop using Harry as a scapegoat for all of his insecurities. Merlin knows how much worse his best friend's life was. Especially recently.

He sat across from Harry now, and watched him pick at the fleur-de-lis stitching on the armchair just as he had picked at the fabric of the not-so-comfortable benches on the Hogwarts Express at their first meeting. On the sofa next to him, Hermione was as still as one of his chess pieces, like she were sitting in front of Fluffy.

"Do you remember who we are, Harry?" Hermione's voice was controlled, and Ron just knew that inside she was a raging storm of questions and emotions, but for as strong as his friend's thirst to understand was, her compassion was even greater.

Harry didn't move at first, just sitting on the chair with his knees folded up to his chest, one arm hugging them closer while the other seemed intent on destroying the armchair one stitch at a time. There was something dissonant about seeing the teenage body curled in a decidedly childish pose, like his friend was possessed. Could a person be possessed by themself?

Then raven hair slowly nodded up and down. Ron let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Professor Snape had said that his memory was different from his personality, that just because his mind thought he was a ten year old boy again didn't necessarily mean he couldn't remember anything that happened after. Although he didn't seem to recognize Professor Snape or Dumbledore. "You're Hermione, and he's Ron."

The corner's of Hermione's eyes crinkled in a comely way. "That's right. We're your friends."

Harry's fingers stopped scratching the arm of his chair, and he glared at them sullenly. "No. I don't want to be friends with freaks."

His knee-jerk reaction was to flare up with anger, but Hermione's startled gasp snapped him out of it. This wasn't the real Harry, their Harry. Professor Snape had said that Harry had developed these different personalities to shield himself from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's attacks, and as such were naturally defensive. Still, it never felt good to be insulted.

"...What about me?" Ron's head snapped over to Draco sitting on the other armchair. He had been so silent until now, that he had completely forgotten about his presence. Draco hadn't spoken much ever since Harry had been kidnapped. Never before had he missed the git's snarky interjections until now.

Harry's lips curled in obvious disgust. "You're even worse than they are. You stay away from me. My aunt warned me about your type. If you touch me, I'll scream."

Ron winced, and looked over to Draco sympathetically. The boy's shoulders were slumped low and his hair looked limp and dull. Honestly, he looked like one of the ghosts haunting the school. He must have fallen pretty low if even Ron felt sorry for him.

Draco sighed and brushed his hair out of his face. He could really do with a haircut, unless he was planning to grow his hair out just like his father. "At least he's not screaming and running away," he muttered to himself, although Ron could still catch it.

"Harry," Hermione leant forward on her knees, "none of us are here to hurt you. We're your friends."

"Then why won't you let me go home? I hate this place."

They all gasped. "But mate, you love Hogwarts."

He shook his head ardently. "No, no, I hate it! It's filled with freakish things and freakish people. It's not normal. I want to go home."

"You sound like your Muggle relatives," Ron said warily.

"You're a wizard," Malfoy said. "How could you hate Hogwarts?"

Harry launched himself to his feet, hands balled into fists. "No, I'm not! I'm not a freak. I'm not." And then he dashed up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. The sound of the door slamming shut like a gong, leaving a tense quietude behind it.

"Well, that could have gone better," Ron spoke just to break the awkward silence.

"Spot on, Weasley. Any other obvious comments you want to add?"

"Hey, don't get pissy with me, Malfoy."

"I have every right to be 'pissy' with you. At least Harry can tolerate you."

Ron hung his head. He remembered that horrible day when Hermione had drunk the Hate Potion, and all of his irritation fled him. Yeah, he'd be a little pissy too.

"This isn't good," Hermione interjected, her eyebrows knitted together, and her hand on her chin in that pose that meant very bad news. "I think this might be his most dangerous personality yet."

"What do you mean? He's just a kid."

"You said it yourself, Ron. He's acting just like his relatives, as if he hates magic."

"Yeah...?"

She faced him and looked him dead in the eyes. "This is different from when he was actually ten years old. He didn't know about magic then, but this Harry does. If he is willfully suppressing his magic... All of that energy is going to build up, and at some point, Harry won't be able to keep it contained anymore."

Draco looked sickly, even more so than usual. "You mean he's going to explode or something?"

"All of that magical energy has got to go somewhere." Merlin! "When you're a kid, it exercises itself through Accidental magic. I'm sure Harry just wrote those events off as weird happenstances, but this Harry knows about the existence of magic and for some reason loathes it. He's not going to let anything 'freakish' escape."

"How long do you think he could last?"

"I don't know. An event such as this is uncommon and not well documented. Even if it was, this seems to be a special case."

Ron looked up at the stairs. "Then we'll just have to show him how awesome magic is. He liked it before all of this, he'll like it again."

 

* * *

 

  
The obvious solution had been, of course, to take Harry flying. The boy took some coaxing to follow them onto the Quidditch Pitch, and already his impatience flared inside of him. He wanted so badly just to levitate the boy out of the castle, but even he understood how bad of an idea that would be. The point was to show the good sides of magic.

"You're a natural at this, so it should be pretty easy for you." Ron mounted his own broomstick and hovered a few inches off of the ground. "Try and do what I'm doing."

"I don't like this," Harry pouted, glaring at the broom in his hands.

"It's the greatest feeling in the world," Draco told him with a rare gleam to his eyes. "Well, after certain activities...Ow!"

"Draco Malfoy! What are you saying to a ten-year-old?"

"He's not ten, Hermione, he's sixteen. And he knows from personal experience. He knows. I know he does." Draco got that dark look on his face, the kind he had seen back in Grimmauld Place when the muted sounds of a swinging number drifted down from upstairs. It was as if Draco was walking a tightrope over a dark and endless chasm.

He quickly stepped in. "Let's get back on task, shall we? Now, come on, Harry. Just mount the broom and kick off."

Harry shook his head stubbornly, feet planted firmly on the ground.

"If you at least give it a try, and you don't like it, I promise we'll never force you to try it again."

"You promise?"

"Yes. I promise."

Harry churlishly held up his left pinky. "Make a pinky promise."

"A what?" He looked over to Hermione for help.

"It's like the children's version of an Unbreakable Vow," she supplied helpfully. "Of course, in older times, it meant that if you broke your promise, you had to cut off your pinky."

"How barbaric!" Draco gasped.

"Like giving up your life is so much better?"

Muggles were weird. "Whatever. I'll do it. So I just...stick my pinky out?" He did so, and Harry reached out to entwine their little fingers together. It felt strange, almost like the world's smallest hug, but also like arm wrestling with only one finger.

"If you break your promise, I get your pinky," Harry grinned evilly.

Ron ripped his finger out of his hold. The raven-haired boy laughed wickedly. Yikes, young Harry was kind of scary. No wonder his relatives were wary of him. "It's not like I planned on breaking it anyway."

Laughter dying off, Harry mounted his broom awkwardly, as if he had never done so before. His eyes flitted nervously between the broom handle he clutched onto tightly and Ron. "So I just kick the ground?"

"Kick off, like if you were riding a horse," Draco added.

"I've never ridden one of those."

"Normal people don't have that experience, Young Master Malfoy."

"Oh, shut it, Weasley."

Their banter was interrupted by a startled yelp from Harry, as his broom lifted up, bringing him along with it. He hovered just a little bit above the ground, but he was quivering with terror. "No, no, I don't like this! Put me down!"

"But Harry, you're barely off the ground."

"No, no, no! I'll fall and die. I hate this. I hate this. You promised." Tears were springing to his eyes, and he was shaking so bad the broom was wobbling with him.

"Ok, ok," Hermione tried to soothe him, as she took his hand to help steady him onto the ground. As soon as his feet touched the grass, he threw his Firebolt away from him like it was on fire.

"You weren't in any danger," Ron said gently as he dismounted himself. He hoped nothing broke on the Firebolt, or Harry would be very angry with himself when he got better. He cared for that thing like it were his own son.

Harry was visibly sobbing now, clutching onto Hermione like he thought the world might just fall out from under his feet. "But I did get hurt! My broom got jinxed, the rogue bludger, the dementors... I fell, and it all hurt. It's too scary. Please don't ever make me do that again. Please."

"I-I'm sorry. I won't."

 

* * *

 

  
After the horrible failure of their flying lesson, Harry had taken to juvenile methods of ignoring them. He sat a few seats away, picking at his food and pretending that they weren't sitting at the same table, talking about him.

"It's like he can only remember the bad experiences he's had with magic," Hermione mused over her bowl of lingonberry porridge.

"I suppose if You-Know-Who were to torture someone mentally, he would be like a Dementor and bring out only the worst memories," Draco said blankly, staring at his own bowl of peaches and cream porridge.

Ron's stomach felt too twisted to eat his french toast. "You don't suppose he might have actually used a Dementor on Harry? I mean... I've heard that if a Dementor feeds on someone long enough without Kissing them..." He stopped. This talk wasn't helping anybody.

"He doesn't exactly look like a Dementor, does he?" Hermione countered without any malice. "I'm sure V-Voldemort--" Ron flinched. "--did some horrible and truly terrible things to him. But it seems like he was able to keep him from getting what he truly wanted. In the end, Harry beat him."

Then why did it feel like they had all lost?

 

* * *

 

  
He wondered if he should involve the twins. If anyone could coax laughter out of a person, it would be them, but their pranks also tended to verge just shy of dangerous. After all, when Peeves showed up, Harry just took off running. He wasn't sure what to do, and Hermione had no ideas either. Usually this was the time Harry would miraculously luck himself into the right answer.

"You know, they say every time you sigh, a piece of your soul leaves your body." Ron looked up from the stone floor to find his older brother Bill and Hagrid.

"Bill! Hagrid! What are you two doing here?"

"Professor Dumbledore asked us ter come," Hagrid patted his beard absently. "He told us about Harry's, er, situation."

"He thought some Order protection might be good," Bill added. "And I suppose he thought us trustworthy enough to be around Harry."

"I'm not one fer bad-mouthin', but it's a sad time when you can't even trust yer friends. Everyone in the Order would give their lives fer Harry! Well, except maybe that Fletcher fella."

Ron wisely chose not to point out that Pettigrew had once been a member of the Order too. "Well, I'm sure he'll be glad to see the both of you."

"I doubt he even remembers me," Bill said in good humor. "Oh right, that reminds me. I've been meaning to tell you... I'm getting married."

"What! To who?"

Bill laughed at his exclamation. "To Fleur, obviously. I popped the question to her just a few days ago. I wasn't planning on asking so soon, but with the way everything's been going lately... I mean, Fudge sacked, this new guy Scrimgeour maintains that we're winning this war, when that is clearly not the case... Well, I just thought, now or never."

"Wow, congratulations. You couldn't have picked a prettier one." Well, except for maybe Hermione. But there was no way Ron was handing her over to anyone, not even his own brother. "When's the wedding?"

"I don't know yet. We just started... and now that mum's charged herself with the planning, it could take months. I wanted to have a quick and quiet wedding, but Fleur said that people need a happy event like this in these dark times." He blushed, scratching the back of his neck.

Wow, he really was smitten with this woman, wasn't he? Well, not that he could be blamed--Veela genes, and all that. He hoped they could fix Harry before then. He'd love a wedding, the sap.

 

* * *

 

  
"Now, be honest, Hermione. How badly is this eating you up inside?"

She didn't appreciate his smirk, not nearly as much as Draco did, judging by the loud snort he just made. "It's a school book. It belongs to Hogwarts, and he's drawing a picture of a frog with pastels. This is vandalism."

"Don't be like that, 'Mione. Look at him. He's having so much fun." Ron pointed down the hill they sat on to where Hagrid sat across a giant flat stone by his hut. The half-giant pulled another pastel out of an oiled leather bag, and handed it to Harry, who was hunched over his book, and coloring with precise focus.

Draco grabbed another jelly slug out of the plastic bag between the three of them, and bit its head off with no gentleness. "Figures he'd like the giant oaf instead of us."

"I don't know why we didn't think of it before," Ron admitted, eating his jelly slug with less vitriol than the Slytherin. "Hagrid's the first magical person he ever met. He introduced him to our world. It only makes sense that he would do it again."

Hermione forwent one of the jelly slugs to instead eat some crisps she had dug out of that marvelous beaded bag of hers. Seriously, was there anything she didn't have in there? Sure, she had said that she liked to be prepared, but Ron wouldn't be surprised if she had an entire house in there. He already knew that she had been brewing several different potions, "just in case." "Do you think we should recreate that day for him? Reenact his first day at Hogwarts?"

Ron shook his head. "This is a different Harry from back then. I'm not so sure it won't have adverse effects."

"Well, look at you, Weasley, using big words. I think Granger has started to rub off on you."

"Not yet, but I'd like her to."

"Ronald Weasley!"

It was well worth the smack across his head for how red her face got. She always got this cute look on her face when she was embarrassed, like she had never heard anything so scandalous in all her life. Harry would forever have his gratefulness for encouraging him to confess to her. Ever since they started dating, every day felt like his birthday. Wait a minute.

"That's it," he leapt to his feet, half-eaten slug forgotten on the grass. "We have to throw Harry a birthday party."

Draco leaned over to stage-whisper to Hermione loud enough for him to hear, "I think you knocked something loose."

Ron chose to ignore that. "I know we're a bit late, but it will be a great chance to show him the fun parts of magic. What kid doesn't like to have a party?"

 

* * *

 

  
Dumbledore had loved his idea, and the elves took great glee in decorating the Great Hall. Snape, dusty old bat that he was, had politely declined the invitation. Ron thought it for the best after all. They were trying to make Harry happy. Shame that Bill had to patrol the grounds. Unfortunately, Dumbledore had forbade him from inviting anyone else not already in the know. He didn't understand why he couldn't trust the rest of his family, or even other members of the Order, but the Headmaster was steadfast. Sirius hadn't replied to his letter, so he was unsure if he would come. Draco had made a nasty comment that he didn't want to believe to be true. It was too dangerous here for him. If Filch ever caught sight of him, that nasty old bastard wouldn't hesitate to send an owl to the Head Auror's office. And Dumbledore had banished him to dusting the library (which should take ages without the aid of magic), but wouldn't simply order him off of the grounds for some reason.

Walking into the Great Hall, he had to hand it to the elves. The place looked fantastic. A large banner spanning the entire width of the Great Hall read out: HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY POTTER in shimmering letters that changed colors on a whim. Colorful fairies flitted about the ceiling, playing around the balloons, and even sometimes pushing them at each other. Confetti rained down from the ceiling in a light, but infinite drizzle. One half of the hall had been spelled to be bouncy for some reason, so one had to jump to reach the other end. At least the elves were smart enough not to put any tables there.

Party poppers flew by his head, exploding in an extra spray of confetti, but instead of a popping noise, they sounded like a whole crowd cheering. After startling him, they flew over to Draco, who dropped the plates he had been holding in surprise. When he turned his head, he found Hermione spelling some old Christmas ornaments into little golden Snitches that flew around, happily chasing the fairies. He remembered this trick from their fourth year. How long ago that seemed.

A tingle rushed down the back of his neck, and he turned around to see Sir Nick floating behind him. "Smashing party you've got here, Ronald, but doesn't it seem to be a bit too...childish for Harry? He's turning sixteen this year, right?"

"He already turned, actually. This party is a bit late. And well, Harry's not exactly in the right frame of mind right now." On that note, maybe inviting a ghost wasn't such a great idea. If mere Wizard's Chess frightened him, then a ghost was surely too much. "Just make sure the Bloody Baron doesn't decide to crash, please."

"Aye aye, Captain," Sir Nick gave him a salute which knocked his head partially off of his shoulders, exposing the gruesome innards. "Oh, woops." He pulled his head back into place.

"And best not to do that around him also."

"Right." The ghost flew away.

"I must say, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore walked up to him with that old twinkle in his eye, a thing which had been missing recently. "You have a knack for party planning. Perhaps you should consider this as a future career path."

He must have made a face, because Dumbledore let out a loud guffaw. "Yes, your brilliant mind would be wasted there. My apologies."

He flushed at the praise. No one had ever called him brilliant before. Especially not while Hermione was in the same room. "No, I--"

Dumbledore waved his words away. "No matter. This is shaping up to be a splendid party. I'm sure Harry will love it."

"Thank you."

Just then, the large double doors to the hall opened by a giant hand, revealing a beaming Hagrid leading a wide-eyed Harry. A hush fell over the hall as everyone looked over to the boy, nervously awaiting his reaction. Tentatively, he stepped into the hall, eyes darting everywhere, taking it all in.  
  
Suddenly, a loud snap announced the sudden appearance of Dobby directly in front of Harry. Ron could throttle the elf. They were trying not to scare Harry. "Happy Birthday, Harry Potter!"

Harry instantly leapt back, clutching onto Hagrid's shirt, partially hiding behind him.

Hagrid chuckled, patting Harry on the shoulder. "It's alrigh', Harry. Dobby means no harm."

Dobby, wringing his hands, took a step back, his large ears drooping a little. "Dobby is sorry for scaring sir. Dobby is a friend."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You tried to kill me with a bludger."

"Dobby was not meaning to kill Harry Potter, sir, no. Dobby meant only to seriously maim or injure."

"You got me in trouble with my aunt and uncle. They put bars on my windows."

"Dobby is apologizing for that, sir. Dobby had only been trying to help Harry Potter, sir. Harry Potter has already been telling Dobby not to be doing those things no more." His large eyes began to water, and he gave a loud sniff with his pointed nose. "Dobby will be leaving if that is what Harry Potter wants."

Harry's face scrunched up. "No, you don't have to leave. Please stop crying. Just...don't try to help me with anything."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." And to everyone's great relief, Dobby stopped his sobbing and moved to the other side of the room.

As soon as he was far enough away, Harry cautiously came out from behind Hagrid, who patted his shoulder with a beefy hand. "Happy Birthday, Harry. Ah, this reminds me of the first time I met ye. You were such a wee little thing, drawin' a birthday cake in the dirt." He wiped a stray tear with his finger, and Ron hoped he wasn't going to start crying too. You weren't supposed to cry at birthday parties. "This cake won't be nearly as sat on, I promise." He chuckled to himself.

Harry gaped around at the room a bit before turning back to Hagrid. "This is all for me? But it's not my birthday."

Ron decided it was his turn to step in. "Sorry, we're late. We never really got the chance to give you a proper birthday party, did we?" He didn't think busting him out of his locked room that one year counted as a party. "So what would you like first? Cake or lunch? It's your party, so we'll do whatever you want."

Harry looked at him like he had grown a second head. "I...I have cake? And it's for me?"

Something in his chest swelled. "Of course it is. It's your birthday, after all. We can do whatever you want for today."

"I... I would like to play knights."

"What's that? Is it like playing chess? You'll have to teach me."

Harry's eyeline dropped to his feet. "I don't really know how either. Dudley always played it with his friends."

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Hermione and Draco whispering to each other. Just as he was about to ask them what they were planning, they whispered something to Dumbledore who nodded with a bright smile. With a wave of his hand, all of the party decorations disappeared, leaving behind two small forts, one with a green flag flying proudly on its tower (although there was no wind in the Great Hall) and the other sported a red flag. In between the two forts were barricades, and even a moat around the red flagged one.

Then, Dumbledore clapped his hands and Ron found his clothes had suddenly turned into armor, complete with a sword at his belt. His red tunic boasted a proud lion insignia, that even roared on occasion. Despite the metal on him, he could move easily and freely, as if it weighed nothing. Sometimes, he forgot how powerful a sorcerer Dumbledore really was.

When he looked over to his left, he found Harry in a splendid white knight costume, complete with a fluttering cape that fell to his calves. It looked like a pair of folded wings on his back. He looked down at his sword in wonder, delicately testing the edge. Of course it was dull. Ron found his to be as light as wood, and Harry seemed to have reached the same conclusion as he swung it around inexpertly. He looked at Ron in a weird mixture of wonder and confusion.

"That's the great thing about magic, Harry: it can grant wishes." The boy hadn't run screaming yet, so maybe this was all working.

When he looked over to Hermione and Draco, he found them decked out in much lighter looking armor. In fact, Draco practically wore battle robes with a pauldron on his left arm, and metal boots on, holding a staff that had two serpents coiled around a gleaming green stone on the end of it. Hermione looked like a warrior queen in royal purple with a regal cape and golden armor. Ron was starting to sense some favoritism. Why did she look so much better than the rest of them?

"No, no," Harry steeped forward, his armored boots clacking loudly. "Hermione, you're the girl, so you have to be the princess. We have to rescue you from the evil wizard Draco."

"That's incredibly sexist," Hermione huffed.

At the same time, Draco said, "I'll have you know that this is a recreation of the staff of Salazar Slytherin himself. Look, it even has the Heart of the Great Basilisk." He held forward his staff.

"Oh Draco, you know that story is most likely false, right?"

"I don't care. We're not all knights either, so I can be whatever I want. If I say Salazar Slytherin charmed the original Basilisk into giving him its heart, then he did."

Harry shook his head. "No, that's not how the game is played. The girl has to be the princess. And Draco is the evil wizard that kidnapped her."

"If anything, I think Draco should be the princess," Ron grinned.

"Hey, I'm a powerful Sorcerer, and most certainly not the princess."

"Well, neither am I." Hermione crossed her arms.

"But it's my birthday," Harry pouted.

"Ugh, fine." Hermione rolled her eyes, and then looked to Dumbledore. With a mirthful smile, he waved his wand, and her armor turned to fine silks, and her sword into a delicate tiara on her bushy head. She looked rather pretty, and Ron found himself feeling hot under the collar. In a complete monotone, she said, "Oh no, I've been captured. I am a woman so I have been reduced to an object for men to fight over."

"Please, princess, the men are talking," Draco teased, only for Hermione to take his own staff and hit him on the head with it.

"Now what do we do, Harry?" Ron asked to keep them on track, as fun as watching Hermione beat up Draco always was.

"We each go into our forts, and then we fight."

The game turned out much more fun than Ron expected. It reminded him of that life-size chess game they had played their first year. When they tried to storm Draco's little fort, he had summoned three house-elves dressed as dragons to chase them away, but they were stopped by the moat around their fort. Then Harry had summoned the giant Hagrid to send Draco's tiny dragons running for the hills. Then Hermione had revealed herself to actually be an evil sorceress who had cursed the land to get her throne, and now held Draco captive. Then Ron and Harry had to fight her army of snitches to rescue the poor evil wizard. Then it was revealed that Ron was the true King of Camelot, as they had then decided their country to be named, and he had fallen under the evil sorceress' love spell, and defected to her side. So then Draco and Harry had to team up to defeat Hermione to free the lovesick Ron. In the end, Draco declared himself reformed, and forever swore allegiance to Harry.

"Oh no," Hermione cried out dramatically, as she pretended to fall at Harry's sword. "I have been defeated, but at least I did not take a passive role."  
  
Ron laughed. "Hermione, please."

"Goodbye, my love. It turns out that I did not enslave you for your kingdom, but instead because I had fallen in love with you as a young witch. I now have a redeeming quality which will make my death sad for the audience." She crumpled to the ground.  
  
Ron knelt beside her, laughing. "Hermione, please. I'm crying here."

"See? Because my acting was so good." She smiled even as she lay on the floor dead.

Then Draco jumped forward, poking Ron in the back with his staff. "Ha, I have slain you, King, while you were grieving over the sorceress. Now, I am king, and I will take Harry as my consort."

Harry stuck out his tongue. "Gross. I don't want to be a consort. Why can't I be king?"

"It's ok, Harry. We'll both be kings and rule together."

"Do I have to marry you? Two kings can't marry each other."

"Sure they can."

"Congratulations on your marriage."

Harry toed Ron on the floor. "Shut up. You can't talk. You're dead."

Ron sat up, pulling Hermione up with him. "Yes, we can, because now we're ghosts. And we'll watch over the happy couple, and scare your children for fun."

Draco turned to Harry with a big smile. "See? Happy ending for everyone."

"Not for me. Ugh, I don't want to play this game anymore. You guys made it weird." He stomped off, and the enchantments fell away, returning the Great Hall to its previous state, and all of them in their normal clothes. Ron kind of missed his. It felt rather cool to carry around a sword.

Dumbledore stepped forward. "Perhaps you would like to eat something, Harry? I'm sure you are famished after conquering an enemy kingdom."

Harry nodded his head, his eyes lighting up. "I want cake."

"Then cake you shall have, my dear boy." He motioned with his hand to a table where plates and forks had already been set out.

Harry eagerly ran towards it, and Ron quickly took the spot to his right. Once they were all seated, an enormous three tiered cake floated in on frosted wings, landing on a large platter in the center of the table. On the top were sixteen candles in a circle, each lit, with a sparkler in the center. Harry looked like he had never seen anything so amazing in his life. His bottom was barely on his seat.

"Alright, Harry," he said to him. "Blow out your candles and make a wish."

Eagerly, Harry stood up so he could reach the top, the candlelight reflecting off of his glasses. He thought for a moment before taking a deep breath and blowing out all of the candles in one go. Everyone clapped (Hagrid the loudest) and wished him a happy birthday. He sat back down rosy-cheeked and smiling. Dumbledore took it upon himself to cut up the cake and hand it out.

"What did you wish for, Harry?" Hagrid asked from his other side.

"If I tell you, then it won't come true."

They all dived into their slices of cake, and Ron was surprised to discover that it had a treacle filling. The effect was all much too sweet for Ron, but Harry seemed to enjoy it, greedily shoveling cake into his mouth like it just might disappear on him.

"So, Harry, how did you like your party? Did you have fun?" He grabbed a glass of water to wash down all of that sugar. His teeth were aching with how sweet it was.

Harry nodded shyly. "Yes, thank you very much."

So polite. He almost missed the little shithead from before.

"Don't forget to brush your teeth tonight," Hermione lectured, eying the sugary goop of the cake. Oh yeah, didn't her parents clean Muggle teeth for a living? What a strange job. Though he supposed if you didn't have such things as cleaning spells, it might be difficult.

Harry swatted her hands away when she tried to wipe off some frosting that had gotten onto his cheek, and proceeded to do it himself, muttering something about not being a baby. It struck Ron then how incredibly domestic this whole scene was. Their lives had been so full of adventure and trials, that moments like these were rare, and he started to think that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if Harry never left this personality.

At that moment, the door to the Great Hall was flung open, bringing with it a blast of warm air. They all turned to see a large black dog trot inside. So Sirius had decided to show up fashionably late.

"Harry?"

He turned around to find Hermione staring at the taller boy trying to hide himself behind her. The fists bundling up the back of her shirt were shaking visibly. Ron had a sinking feeling, and turned to warn Sirius, but the dog had already made it to the table, sniffing the air cautiously, tail no longer wagging.

"No, go away," Harry's voice sounded small.

"Sirius, I think your dog form is scaring him," Ron said.

The dog perked an ear up at him, tilting its head to the side, but he transformed back into a man, nonetheless. That had been a terrible mistake.

"NO, NO, GET AWAY!" Harry screamed, and then a shockwave burst out from him, knocking everything around him at least twenty feet away.

Ron flew out of his chair and skidded across the polished floor into another set of chairs. It hurt like hell, but he still clambered to his feet as fast as he could. Everyone had been knocked onto their backs, and Sirius had been pushed furthest of them all. The room was covered in spattered white frosting, the fairies had flown away, and the birthday banner had fallen. "Harry--"

The boy ran out of the castle, and Ron took off after him, but had slipped in some frosting and fallen hard on his hands. They stung, but he forced himself to his feet anyway and followed his friend.

He found him outside, about halfway down the path that would lead to the front gates. For a moment, he feared that Harry might push them open and run outside of the protection of the wards, but he had stopped to wrap his arms around himself and squat down on the ground.

Reassured that he wasn't going to leave, he slowed down to a halt to catch his breath. Harry's shoulders no longer shook, so hopefully he wasn't crying. Tears always seemed to mess with his brain function, and he couldn't think of the best words to say to comfort. So instead, he sat down next to Harry on the dirt path.

A glance out of his periphery showed that the boy was indeed not crying, but his eyes were shadowed, haunted. He didn't have to ask to know what horrible memories of magic he might associate with Sirius. Perhaps he should have thought twice before inviting the man. He just thought his love for his godfather would win.

"Hey, Harry, I wanted to give you your birthday present."

The boy stopped, and turned around to regard him with bright green eyes, and then, in that same way he said on their first Christmas together, he said, "I get presents?"

"Of course you do. Don't people normally get presents for their birthdays?"

"Sure, but I don't."

He had half a mind to hop a broom to Harry's aunt and uncle's and jinx them half to death. "Well, you do now. Here." He handed a small gift box over to his friend, who took it reverently. "I've had it for a while now. I always knew you'd come back to us."

Harry delicately opened the box and pulled out the large wristwatch by the leather strap. It wasn't dragonhide or solid gold, but still a rather expensive piece of clockwork. "A watch?"

"Yeah, it's like the clock at the Burrow, you know, the one with the whole family on it? You used to stare at that thing all the time with this wistful look in your eye. I know what it means to you. So I got you your own, in a more condensed version. This one has your family on it."

Harry cradled the watch in his hands, his lower lip quivering. On it, his face, Hermione's, and Draco's faces were all pointed towards SCHOOL, while Sirius' face was pointed towards HOME. "I don't know what to say."

"Cheers?"

Instead, he was nearly knocked onto his back by a rather fierce hug. Harry didn't cry, thank Merlin, but his shoulders did quiver, and he had Ron's shirt bunched up in his fists, as if he might fall if he let go. Ron found himself blushing at the overt display of affection, but then he wrapped his arms around Harry and hugged him back just as tightly. "I love you like a brother, Harry. You've always been family to me, and you always will be. No matter what happens, I'll be here for you, mate. You understand that, right?"

He felt Harry's nod on his shoulder.

"Good. Then, uh, we should probably stop hugging then. It's quite hot out."

Harry pulled back with a watery smile, and Ron would consider that his greatest victory to date.


	5. Hermione's Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry & Hermione - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySvXYETgOws

"Professor."

Snape stopped to turn slowly around to face her.

"I would like to have a word with you, please."

"By all means, Ms. Granger, you've had several already."

His snark was meant to scare her away, but she was on a mission. "Sir, you are the most skilled Legilimens here. Since Harry's problem was caused by Legilimency, do you not think that it could be solved by it as well?"

He did not sneer, though his face retained its cool moue of disdain. "You believe that in order to heal his mind of violent intrusion, we must violently intrude it?"

She felt herself growing hot under the collar. Why did this man always have to be so disagreeable? "Not violently, of course not. I just mean... Couldn't you just go in there and patch things up?"

"'Just go in there and patch things up,'" well now, there was no call for that sort of mocking behavior, "as if the mind were a broken cupboard, as if it was not layered in many levels of intricacy, as if it were not the most fragile part of the body. The mind works in metaphor, Ms. Granger, and if one does not understand that, one could risk irreparable brain damage. So, no, I will not enter the boy's mind ever again." And then he stormed off, as if she had been the one to speak so rudely. She bet he didn't have may friends as a child.

 

* * *

 

  
Draco bade them to hurry it up with his insistent looks over his shoulder. He seemed unusually peppy that afternoon, and while seeing hope in his silver eyes was not so unusual, the cheer was. All Summer he had been teetering over the edge of depression, and she had already looked into many different magical books on mental illness, and had been practicing her Cheering Charm. Harry would never forgive her if she let Draco get hurt in anyway while he was unable to protect him.

The cool shade of the Forbidden Forest welcomed them from the harsh rays of the August sun. Luckily, they didn't have to travel too far inward, because Hagrid was already waiting for them with a small family of unicorns. Two of them were pure white adults, with long horns protruding from their foreheads, while the youngest one was just beginning to turn silver.

"Phoebus and Mary Ann have agreed to meet with us," Hagrid said by way of greeting. "And little Barnaby wanted to come along too."

"Draco Jr.!" Draco Sr. cooed as he ran towards the foal.

"Woah, Malfoy...!" Hagrid held his hands up in warning just as the two adult unicorns reared up on their hind legs with a vicious whinny.

Draco screamed in fright, fumbling backwards, arms up in defense. As soon as he put a safe distance between him and the foal, the white unicorns calmed.

"Honestly, Draco," Ron said. "After Buckbeak, you'd think you would have learned your lesson."

The other boy pouted. "But he liked me just fine during our lessons..."

"Yer got ter move slowly," Hagrid explained. "Before, I had separated the parents n' the foals, but they wouldn't let him come without supervision."

"Wait, you can actually talk with those things?"

"In a manner of speakin'." Hagrid smiled at his own unintentional pun. "They talk ter those worth talkin' to. They're rather fond of makin' deals."

"...Right."

"Anyway," Hermione said. "We had a purpose here, remember?"

"Oh, right."

They all turned to look at Harry, who had remained silent the entire trip. He eyed the unicorns warily, especially after Draco's little display, curse him. "Come on, Harry. You'll be safe."

"Right," Hagrid tried to smile reassuringly. "Just go nice n' slow, now."

Harry nodded, but didn't take a single step forward.

"Would you like it if I went with you?" Unicorns tended to favor girls, so maybe her presence would help ease the way.

Harry nodded, and so she gently took his hand. Her feet didn't move until his had, and they slowly walked across the herbaceous forest floor. She catalogued the textures of his hand: the callouses from Quidditch, the dryness, the puckered, lettered scar on the back of it. She'd have to get him some moisturizing lotion.

The dead leaves under their shoes crunched loudly in the silent forest. One of the unicorns shook its mane, snorting. She couldn't tell whether that had been Phoebus or Mary Ann. Without checking the undercarriage, there was no way to decipher their gender from the front. The two of them stopped a good three paces from the nearest unicorn. They turned their large black eyes towards them, long eyelashes fanning as they blinked slowly. The young foal stepped forward to more closely inspect them, it's large champagne colored nostrils flaring with loud sniffs. Hesitantly, Harry reached out a hand and waited for the foal to come close enough to touch.

It gave one loud snort and then turned its head to trot back to its parents. A clear rejection. Harry stared at his hand as if it had personally insulted him, and his fingers fell out from hers.

"That's alrigh', Harry," Hagrid said as he presented each of the creatures with an apple in compensation for their time. "Even the foals don't always like boys, especially as they grow older. It doesn't mean anything."

Harry didn't say anything all the way back to Hogwarts.

 

* * *

 

 

_The effects of constant Legilimency is an unexplored topic in today's medical practices. Unlike our Muggle counterparts, the medicine of the mind is a field of study often overlooked. While Legilimency is a restricted practice, that does not mean those with ill-intentions have not used them. The victims of such attacks are left with their minds broken, and in some rare cases, dead._

Hermione had to look up from her reading to catch her breath. She didn't want to think about what Harry had been through, didn't want to imagine what horrors he had been subjected to while they all ran around like headless chickens trying to find him. Unfortunately, wizards didn't seem to care much for psychiatry, focused more on countering dark spells and healing physical ailments. If the problem was naturally occurring, or not the intended effect of some curse, then they tended to be clueless. Perhaps she should send a letter to her parents to owl her some Muggle psychology books. They had a hard time figuring out how to use the birds, but it was still better than nothing. And she would see about going herself, but she couldn't shake the feeling that if she let Harry out of her sight, she'd never see him again.

With a sigh, she shut her copy of _Mindful Maladies and Other Mental Medicine_. She had thought that a book written by a Muggleborn might provide a fresh perspective to the very few wizard books on the topic, but Pierre Janet was just as clueless about a way to help her friend as all the others. They all talked about why, but not how to fix it.

"No luck?" She looked up to find Draco sitting down in the seat across from her. She didn't even hear him enter the library.

"I'm afraid not. What are you doing here and not with Harry?"

"He kicked me out for being 'gross.'"

"Oh, Draco..."

He waved his hand. "No, I'm used to it now. It's still better than before."

"That doesn't mean it's okay."

"No, no it doesn't."

She bit her lip. This summer had been understandably hard on him. She and Ron had tried to visit him as much as they could, and each day, he looked just a little worse. "What if...what if we can't fix him?"

His expression hardened. "I'll never leave his side. No matter what."

That's what worried her. She just might lose two friends instead of one. She leaned across the table to put her hand on his. "No matter what happens, you know you'll still have Ron and me, right?"

He smiled at her, and like the rare times he smiled nowadays, it was just a little bit sad. "Thanks."

She tried to smile back encouragingly. She wanted to tell him "If Sirius can live without Remus, then you can live without Harry," but she wasn't so sure she would call what Sirius was doing "living" exactly. At that moment, she vowed to never let Draco hit that point.

Retracting her hand, she grabbed her wand to spell the book back into its proper place on the shelf. Standing up, she said, "We're not going to find the answer in books. We need to figure this out for ourselves, and that means not pouting every time Harry doesn't act the way we want him to." She began pacing back and forth. Getting her blood moving always helped her to think, and Draco was a great soundboard. She had no doubt that the two most brilliant students at Hogwarts could figure this out. "We need to understand why he chooses the personalities that he does."

"Dumbledore said it before, that he created these personalities as a shield."

She nodded, fingers curled around her chin. "It's Harry's own special brand of Occlumency, using emotion to stop a mental attack. Like concentric walls he's building around himself."

"So the outermost wall was his mother?"

"It makes sense. She had saved him from Voldemort once before, why not this time? Her sacrificial magic has embedded itself in his skin, protecting Harry from him. And it's her unconditional love which finally defeated Voldemort."

"Ok, and then the next one was because he thought if he was obedient, then Dumbledore would save him?"

She paused. "He took Harry's need for love and attention and turned it against him." What an evil man. How could anyone follow this psychopath?

"So, this time, he tried to use his magic?"

"I don't know. It's obvious that Voldemort corrupted it for him, removed all the happiness and left only despair and fear." Her stomach twisted.

"So then why a child?" She looked over at him, surprised by not thinking of that question herself. "If his mother was supposed to protect him, why would he choose a child?"

That did present a problem with their shield theory. "Maybe we should discount his mother, since that is the one that actually worked. These others failed, so maybe they are broken shields?"

"Then..." He stood up too, pacing in the opposite direction of her. "He tried to use his trust in Dumbledore as a shield, but Voldemort twisted that to make him think no one would love him unless he was obedient, so we got that weird...blank servant thing."

"Right. So maybe we need to work this backwards. Why a child?"

"Children are easily scared?"

"But he isn't just scared. He loathes anything his relatives might consider abnormal. It's as if..." Her face lit up with understanding. "His age! His age is a clue. He's ten-years-old, not eleven, not twelve. This is Harry before he knew about magic. This is a Harry that thought he was just a normal kid."

"Ok, so he wants to return to an age when there wasn't magic, as far as he was concerned. So what does that tell us?"

"'The mind works in metaphor.' He's a scared kid. So how do you stop a kid from being scared of the monster in their closet?"

"You show him that there is no monster."

"Did that work for you?" When she was a little girl, she used to have nightmares about a killer clown under her bed. Her father would come in and turn on the light to show her that there was nothing under her bed, but whenever he would leave her back in the darkness, she couldn't help but wonder if it were still there, just hiding whenever her father showed up. She had to sleep in their bed in order to feel safe. "But why would that work?"

"Huh?"

She blinked, realizing that she had spoken aloud. "When I was little, sleeping next to my parents always made me feel safe, but if there were truly a killer clown under my bed, it would still attack me no matter where I slept."

"It's because your parents were there. They'll protect you, because that's what parents do." His face turned grim. "Or, at least that's what they're supposed to do."

"Right. In my mind, they were stronger than any evil apparition that my mind would conjure from the shadows."

"So we need to metaphorically, have Harry sleep in his parents' bed?"

She shook her head. "Harry has never experienced that. If he had nightmares, he had to deal with them himself." She felt a fresh wave of commiseration for her poor friend. It had always sounded sad to learn that he never knew the love of his own parents, but she had never really thought about it until now. "It's the same reason I don't need to sleep with my parents now."

Draco's eyes lit up with understanding. "It's not that you know there is no monster under the bed, it's that you know now that you could fight it."

She nodded with a smile. "Magic has done that for me. Even if the monsters were real, even if the worst came to pass, I knew that I could survive it. That I could protect myself. If there's a boggart, you just need to use _Riddikulus_."

"So we make Harry laugh?"

"No, well, I'm sure that wouldn't hurt anything, but I think we need to let the worst happen."

They had been working so well together, their minds on the same frequency, that she was physically jolted when his face completely shut down, and his body stiffened as if he had just been given mild electrocution. "Absolutely not. We're not hurting him. I'll stop you." She had no doubts that he wouldn't hesitate to hex her if she tried.

"I don't mean we use an Unforgiveable on him, but he needs to know that he can survive the horrible things that have happened to him. For every curse, there is a counter-curse."

"Not for the Killing Curse, there isn't."

She rolled her eyes. "No one's going to kill him. At this point, I'm not even sure if anyone could. But he needs to face his fears, and just like our parents did for us, we'll be there to protect him."

"Then what specifically do you propose?"

"What's the easiest way to face one's darkest fears?"

"So an actual boggart, then? Where would we even get one?"

Hermione smiled. "I know a guy."

* * *

 

  
They stood in an abandoned classroom on the Fourth Floor, the dust kept to a manageable thickness by the house-elves, though clearly they didn't bother keeping it too clean if no one was going to use it. A couple of desks with chairs stacked on top of them had been pushed up against a wall, cobwebs connecting them. A broken grandfather clock sat silently in a corner on a raised platform, and in the front of the classroom, all on its own, was a wooden cabinet that's varnishing had begun to peel off and any intricate details in the carving and design had long since faded away. It rocked on its legs once and then remained still.

"People don't usually _want_ to find these things," Hagrid said. "They're like the baby cousins of Dementers or somethin'."

Harry snapped his gaze from warily watching the cabinet move on its own to stare at Hagrid in worry. "What things?"

"A boggart," Hermione answered.

Harry's eyes bugged out of his head just before he made an immediate dash for the door. Hermione, luckily, was in just the right spot to catch him about the middle and hold him in place, despite how powerful his struggles were. "No! No! How could you-- No!"

"This is for your own good, Harry. Trust me."

Draco stepped forward, his hand out cautiously, still deciding whether he needed to rescue him or not. "Hermione, I'm not sure... He looks so scared."

"That's kind of the point. And there's no need to be so scared. With so many people here, we can confuse the boggart and make it less powerful. And Hagrid's here. The boggart can't hurt you, Harry."

Still, Harry struggled. "No, no, I don't want you to see."

That almost made her give up. No doubt Harry's boggart would depict Voldemort in all the ways he had tortured Harry over the Summer. She didn't want to invade his privacy, but that little burst at his birthday party was only a sign of worse things to come. They had to figure out a way to save him from himself before he blew himself up. But perhaps this could solve more problems than one. "I know it's scary, but we're here. We're your friends, and we'll protect you."

The boy in her arms stopped struggling, and Ron crouched down before him. "We only want to help you, mate."

No sound escaped the boy for some time, before Harry eventually nodded, and Hermione released him. She felt bad about coercing him, but his personality was already disinclined to go along with their ideas.

A rattling noise brought their attention back to the cabinet. The boggart knew that they were there and was eager to feed their fear. It really made you wonder why Dementors didn't keep boggarts as pets or something. Or perhaps they were not as symbiotic. What did a Dementor see when it looked at a boggart? "Alright, the point of this is for you to conquer your fear, Harry." She moved to give him her wand, but he looked at the thing as if it were a stick of dynamite. "You know the spell, right? You'll need magic to fight it off."

Still he shook his head so fast his glasses had slid down his nose and his hair looked even wilder than usual.

"But Harry--"

Ron put a hand on her arm and shook his head. With a sigh, she returned her wand to its pocket in her skirt. All of them were prepared to step in should the boggart overwhelm him.

"Yer ready?" Hagrid stood by the cabinet, his hand on the lock.

They all stepped back, so that Harry was in front of all of them. While they could use their presence to confuse the boggart, they needed to see what was purely Harry's first.

The cabinet had gone still. Hagrid flicked the latch on the lock, and instead of bursting open, the doors slowly swung on their hinges to reveal nothing but darkness. Hermione had started to wonder if perhaps Harry feared nothing but an empty cabinet, before pale fingers grabbed the edge of the door. She grasped her wand in her pocket, already imagining Voldemort sucking on a dummy for her spell, but what stepped out of the cabinet wasn't Voldemort. An exact replica of Harry just as he was right in front of her climbed out of the cupboard, but something was wrong. He was smiling in a way that looked foreign on his face, not a smile of glee, but one of sinister thoughts. His green eyes scanned all of them before resting on the real Harry, who was as white as a sheet. The boggart smiled even wider, and began to hiss.

No, not hiss, Parseltongue, and the Harry beside her understood every word if the widening of his eyes was anything to go by. "No, that's not true!" Harry shouted, causing her to jump. What had the boggart said? "No, that wasn't me. It was him!"

"Harry?" Draco asked, but he was ignored.

The boggart hissed more, but some sort of black goo like tar had crept out of the corners of his mouth, and then out of his nose and ears. Black tear tracks ran down his cheeks, but never did he stop smiling that creepy smile.

"No, you're wrong!" Harry slammed his hands over his ears and cinched his eyes closed, crouching down on the ground in a ball as if he could block out the world.

"Hermione..." Draco had pulled out his wand. "We should stop. I don't like this."

She was inclined to agree with him, but they all knew this wasn't going to be a pleasant experience. They had to show Harry that his worst fears wouldn't break him, that he was stronger than that. "Harry--"

The boggart took another step closer to its prey, hissing some more words. Then, it's eyes flickered over to her for a quick second. "I show not your face, but your heart's desire."

Harry looked up at the boggart instantly, scrambling to his feet. But the boggart wasn't looking at him, it had instead turned towards her, and had plucked a wand from its robes to point at her. She didn't hear what spell the boggart was trying to use, because Harry screamed her name just before tackling her to the ground.

She crashed into the hard floor. From her new sideways vision, she saw Ron jump in between them and the boggart. It was hard to tell with his legs blocking her view, but she could have sworn she'd seen her face lying on the ground in just the same position she was in now, but unmoving and covered in blood. It was only there for a second before it had changed into a flobberwarm that farted every time it moved, and then that was spelled back into the cabinet where Hagrid hastily locked it.

Draco had rushed over to their side and pulled Harry up off of her. She sat up, and saw Draco cradling Harry's hand delicately. Apparently when he had tackled her to the ground, he had landed on it wrong, and already his wrist was looking red and swollen. Harry hissed in pain, and yanked his hand back. "Don't touch me!" And then he dashed out of the classroom.

Draco turned furious silver eyes onto her, still on the floor. "I told you this was a bad idea!" And then he dashed off after Harry.

She swallowed a lump in her throat. It wasn't supposed to go this way. A wide hand picked her up, and she looked over to Ron. He didn't need to say anything, she could see it in his face. "Right, we still have work to do." They took off after them.

Luckily, they didn't get very far. She found Harry sitting on the floor next to a statue of a unicorn, Draco holding his arm firmly with a hard expression on his face. Tears were streaming down Harry's face (the normal kind), but still Draco didn't release Harry's arm, instead demanding he look him in the eyes. "Harry, I can heal this, but its going to be painful, so I need you to stay still alright?"

Harry shook his head, and tried to get away, but Draco wouldn't let him. "Haven't you guys done enough to me already?"

That felt like a punch in the gut. The blows bounced off of Draco's steely countenance, however. "No matter what happens, I'll always be there to patch you back up." Then, without warning, he muttered the spell and Harry gave a yelp.

Feeling that she had hung back like a coward long enough, Hermione stepped forward to kneel down by Harry's side, ignoring the venomous looks Draco directed towards her. "It's okay to be scared. It's okay if you fall, because we're your friends, Harry, and that means we'll always be there to pick you back up." And then she grabbed his newly healed hand and hoisted them both to their feet.

Harry's head hung, staring at his own battered shoes. She should really see about getting him some new ones. "But what if I'm a freak?"

"Don't you remember? We're all freaks."

"That's right," Ron slung an arm around Harry and her, nearly knocking their heads together. "And nothing can separate us for good. We'll always find our way back to each other, right, Draco?"

Draco startled out of whatever had been holding his thoughts agreed.

 

* * *

 

  
The next day, it took her until after dinner to work up the courage to ask Draco if she could borrow Harry. While yesterday might have ended on a high note, the boy still couldn't forgive her for putting Harry through that, and honestly, she couldn't forgive herself.

"Taking him to face any more boggarts, Granger?" Yikes, he hadn't called her by her surname in a long time.

"No, of course not. I just wanted to apologize and to give a gift to Harry."

They both looked at her warily.

"It's nothing even remotely magical, I swear. And...I'm sorry. I pushed you too far. I thought I could play psychiatrist, and I had gotten impatient. Sometimes I think I know all of the answers, when really, I'm just as clueless."

"Ah, so the mighty Hermione Granger is just as fallible as the rest of us." Okay, yeah, maybe she could have worded that a bit less condescendingly. Not that Draco was anyone to talk. "If you admit that I'm smarter than you, then I'll let you take Harry."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh great Draco Mafloy, my intellect and cleverness pales in comparison to your brilliance."

"I could do without the sarcasm, but alright." He waved at them before walking off to go find Ron.

Now that the two of them were alone, Hermione felt much less confident. Harry just stared at her with those green eyes of his. They always made her feel as if he could see right through her. If she didn't know any better, she'd say Harry was a Legilimens. So instead, she invited him to follow her to the library, which he did so silently.

They sat at one of the many empty tables, and she used her wand to summon a particular book, before realizing that might be a mistake. However, when she looked over to Harry, he didn't even flinch at her wand. "Have you ever made a paper crane before, Harry?"

He shook his head, glasses sliding down his nose at the movement. His legs kicked out in a nervous pattern, and his eyes blinked at her shyly. Harry was pretty cute as a kid. It's a wonder how his relatives could resist loving him for eleven years.

She grabbed one of the books off of the pile on the table and cracked it open. With no hesitation, she grabbed page 23 and ripped it clean out.

Beside her, Harry let out a scandalised gasp. "But Hermione! That's a book. You love books."

"I do, but this is Gryndwll Gaup's _Treatise on Blood Purity_. It's garbage anyway." And just to make her point, she flipped to the chapter on the "Muggleborn Problem" and ripped it out gleefully.

Harry clasped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide and fixed on the dismembered page. She pushed the book slightly towards him with an encouraging look. Hesitantly, his larger fingers delicately held a page. With one last look to her, he gave his arm a tug. The page didn't rip cleanly, curving somewhere in the middle so that the bottom half still remained. Somehow, this satisfied Hermione more.

"You'll need a bigger piece than that. Here, you can have one of mine."

"Thank you."

"Now, it needs to be in the shape of a square, so we'll have to cut off a bit of the excess." She reached down towards her pocket for her wand to cast a quick _Diffindo_ , but then looked at her company, and decided to go for her bag instead. She pulled out her pruning scissors for Herbology class. A quick snip, and then... "Now, we want to fold it in half, bringing two opposite corners together."

He watched her with intense focus, trying to mirror her movements as best as he could. His first attempt came out lopsided, so it resembled more of a mantis than a crane. His disappointment didn't keep him down for long, because then he got to rip out another page. This time, he didn't hesitate or hold back.

They established a rhythm, the crisp noises of paper being folded in synchronization the only noise in the library. A feeling of serenity washed over her, and she thought that she might very much like to repeat this exercise with a Harry closer to her own age.

"I was like you once," she said casually. "Not knowing about magic, I mean. When I was your age. Gosh, that makes me sound like an old lady."

He only paused momentarily in his folding. "You kind of act like one."

She swatted him on the head playfully, and for some reason the act made her want to cry. How many times had she lightly smacked Harry upside the head for his snarky remarks. She missed him. "As I was saying, before I turned eleven, I didn't know about magic either. I thought I was just a normal girl who went to St. Mary's Primary School for Gifted Children. The other children there bullied me a lot. I didn't really have any friends."

She finished another crane, and set it next to the other three. Somehow it looked smaller than the others. "So when I got my Hogwarts letter and learned that I was a witch, I felt relieved, honestly. It all made sense, I thought. The reason I was bullied was because all the other children could sense something was different about me. My parents were skeptical, and a bit afraid, truth be told. But they saw how excited I was, and they were excited for me. I read all of the books I could. I didn't want to fall behind all the other kids that had grown up knowing all of this stuff."

She smiled, remembering her wide-eyed and bushy-tailed enthusiasm. How wonderful this new world had seemed to her then. She ripped another page out and started another crane. "But when I got to Hogwarts, the other kids still bullied me. And I thought, maybe it wasn't because of my magic, maybe there really was something wrong with me. Maybe those kids were right." Out of her periphery, she could see Harry's hands still, but she continued folding paper, feeling a bit satisfied when the word "Mudblood" was bent out of view. "I've never told you this before, but the night before you saved me from that troll, I had written a letter to my parents begging them to take me back home." This time, she skipped a step. "But then you and Ron saved me, and you started talking with me, and eating meals with me, and asking me for help on your homework, and solving the mystery of the Philosopher's Stone. The next week, I wrote my parents a very different letter."

Harry stared at the paper crane in her hand, his own forgotten and half folded. She pinched it by the neck and gave its little tail a tug, and when she did, the little paper wings began to flap. Harry clapped in delight.

"You helped me to see how wonderful magic really is, Harry." With a push of her will and a great deal of concentration, she wordlessly enchanted the crane into flying of its own accord from her hand over to Harry's.

He didn't say anything, just stared at the paper bird awkwardly.

After a while, Hermione added, "You know, there's a legend that if you make a thousand paper cranes, your wish will come true."

Harry glanced up at her from his hunched shoulders. "What would you wish for?"

Her throat tightened. "I would wish for my friend back."

A tense pause.

Harry gently set the bird down next to her other ones, and then ripped out another page out of the book. "This might take a while."

 

* * *

 

  
Perhaps her plan had worked, because the next day she woke up to distant laughter, such a rare sound these days. She leapt to her feet, not even bothering to change out of her pyjamas as she ran out of the room she shared with Ron. On the steps above the common room, she found the boys (her boys, she liked to think) all seated around a small dollhouse. Tiny flashes of light accompanied the laughter, and she hurried downstairs.

"Look, look, Hermione, it's a real live dragon," Harry held up Draco's tiny Hungarian Horntail up to her.

"His name is Harry Jr.," Draco impatiently reminded. This must not have been the first time.

"Ah, he reminds me o' my Norbert," Hagrid wiped tears from his eyes. "Such a sweet little lad."

Ron scoffed. "Are we talking about the same dragon that lit your beard on fire?"

"I bet Harry Jr. would do it for you if you asked nicely."

"Ta, Malfoy, but I'm fine." Hagrid stroked his beard nervously.

As if it could understand them, the little dragon shot out a tiny ball of fire that dissipated before it could touch Hagrid's impressive beard. It then leapt off of Harry's hands to fly over to Draco, where it wrapped itself around his shoulders. She could tell he was trying to hide it, but the blond beamed with pride.

Harry stood up, turning to face her fully. "Um, Hermione, I was waiting until you woke up to tell you this, but I think I'm ready to grant your wish, but in order to do that, I need magic. Magic can grant wishes."

Her pulse picked up, and now she knew why everyone was suddenly in such great spirits. She turned to Ron, who helpfully explained, "He needs his wand. Dumbledore's had it all this time."

Well, it made sense that for the personality that despised magic to move on, it would have to use it. But what had changed? He had been so against magic before... Had her boggart idea truly worked? Or...

She remembered the way Harry had launched himself in between her and the boggart. No, he said he'd been ready to grant her wish, he was doing this for her. Her throat tightened. Should have known the hero complex was the route to go.

After she quickly changed into her day clothes, they headed off to the Headmaster's Office in a controlled power walk. By the time they were standing in front of the old sorcerer, they were all a little out of breath. Of course, once Professor Dumbledore learned of what they planned to do, they all had to wait for him to summon Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey to bear witness. She supposed it made sense to have a Master Legilimens and a licensed Healer on hand, but the wait made her antsy.

Once everyone was present, Professor Dumbledore pulled out a long wooden box, which he placed on the desk in front of him. Gently, he undid the clasp and opened it to reveal a holly wand nestled snugly in a bed of velvet. "I believe this belongs to you, Harry."

Harry didn't immediately move, staring at the piece of wood with a face that Hermione couldn't quite decipher. Then, in one smooth motion, he reached out and grasped the wand. They all held their breath.

Nothing happened.

She felt a bit silly for expecting something to. He was just a normal wizard picking up his wand, like all of the students did every day.

"Alright then, Harry," Ron encouraged. "Give it a go."

Harry nodded, holding his wand more firmly. Before he waved his wand, however, he turned to look at the three of them, with a smile that seemed too deep and heavy to come from a ten-year-old boy. "Before I go, I just want to say thank you...for being my friends."

'Oh, Harry,' she thought to herself, feeling like her chest was too full at the moment.

With one last smile, Harry gave his wand a grand wave around his head, and out from his wand burst hundreds of little white birds, the noise of their flapping wings nearly deafening. They all swirled around him, nearly blocking him completely from view. One of them landed on her hand when she stretched it out, and with a little gasp, she realized that these weren't real birds at all, but paper cranes. She had an idea exactly how many of them there were.

Then, as magnificently as they arrived, the paper cranes all disappeared. The office seemed eerily quite with the vacuum of noise now. In the center of them all, stood Harry, staring at his hands in wonder. "I'm...me." Then, a wide smile spread across his face. "I'm me!" He flipped around, his eyes darting across all of them, before a victorious laugh burst out from his lungs. "I'm me," he said with more inflection this time, as if that would make them understand more.

"H-Harry?" Draco's voice was as small and fragile as a robin's egg, and for his sake, Hermione really hoped this was the end. She wasn't sure how much more of this the boy could take.

Harry's eyes zeroed in on Draco, and a manic smile tugged at his face. "Draco," he drew out the name like an incantation. Suddenly, he wrapped himself around the boy like a monkey, nearly knocking him down with the force of his embrace.

Draco was too shocked to do anything in return, but it didn't matter, because Harry had decided to tackle her next, swallowing her in a great big hug. "Hermione!" Then a redhead was smashed into her side as he was unwittingly pulled into the hug as well. "Ron! You guys did it. You saved me."

When he released them, she couldn't help but hold onto his elbow, as if he might flit away. "Is that really you, Harry?"

"It is. I remember everything. I was there, stuck in my head, behind these false me's, but now I'm the real me. The only me."

"Harry, mate, you're not making a whole lot of sense."

"This whole thing doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me." He pushed up the round glasses on his nose. "Honestly, I'm trying not to think too much on it. I-- Draco, are you crying?"

"Shut up," Draco, who was most definitely crying, spat. He stomped forward, grabbed Harry by the cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss, like he wasn't in front of Snape of all people. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again, Potter."

Harry only smiled wider. She would even go so far as to call it smug. Finally, he seemed to notice the adults in the room, and his smile dropped a fraction. "Oh...um."

"Welcome back, Potter," Snape said with ill-concealed disgust.

"Um, thank you, Professor."

Luckily, any opportunity for conversation was stolen by Madam Pomfrey, who hustled forward to start casting a flurry of spells at him. "Hmm, well, everything seems to be all in order, not that it wasn't before. That unusual brain activity is gone, I see. Well, Mr. Potter, I give you a clean bill of health. And welcome back, dear."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

Then he turned to Dumbledore, and his smile completely dropped. His brow creased and his jaw tensed, as if he were keeping something held back. "Dumbledore."

Harry's sudden change in demeanor did not go unnoticed by anyone. Professor Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Welcome back, Harry. I..." Whatever he was going to say, they wouldn't get to hear it.

"Dumbledore! Dumbledore! I bring grave news." They all snapped to the portrait of an old man in heavy black and gold robes breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon.

"Everard," Dumbledore spoke in haste. "What is it?"

"The Ministry has fallen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pierre Janet is a real psychologist, and one of the pioneers in the field of disassociation.


	6. Draco's Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ballade no. 1 in G minor by Frédéric Chopin  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wgPh3mSYf0M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where we earn that Mature rating. ;)

Just ten minutes. Just ten bloody minutes to bask in the feeling of having his Harry whole and hale back at his side. Was that really too much to ask? While the room seemed to explode into a panic, Draco just felt exhausted. This whole war business was driving him bonkers. He should just take Harry and run off to Paris, maybe even so far as Beijing.

"This was his plan all along," Professor Snape said ominously, his already pale features ghastly. "He let us have Harry as a distraction."

"I fear that may be so," Dumbledore answered back, equally grim. "We must be very careful about our next moves." He paused, his eyes flitting towards them as if he had just noticed that they were there. "Madam Pomfrey, please escort these students to their dormitories."

"What?" Ron sputtered. "No, we want to stay. We have a right to know what's going on."

"This is no time for children," Snape said dismissively.

"Children or not," Hermione argued. "We're a part of this now." Her eyes flicked over to Harry.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore's voice was stern, but gentle. "I already regret the amount you children have been involved already. Please, allow me to try and protect you in the best way that I can. Now, I urge you to stay in Gryffindor Tower. We are in a tentative spot, and it will be the safest place for you four until we can assess the situation."

She hung her head in defeat. "Yes, Professor." Draco had to hand it to the old man. Any continued arguing from them would only make them look more like petulant children.

Madam Pomfrey guided them towards the exit. "Come with me, children." They followed obediently and silently. The walk to the Seventh Floor was tense, punctuated only by the sound of their shoes on the stone floor.

As soon as they watched the Healer disappear through the portrait hole, their silence broke.

"What's going to happen?" Ron said."Is You-Know-Who really in charge of the Ministry right now?"

Draco answered, "More than likely, the new Minister is a Death Eater puppet." Maybe it was even his father. Or maybe not. The Dark Lord might no longer trust him with such an important position for having such a failure as a son.

Hermione began to pace. He could just feel her mind racing a league a minute. "How long before the Board of Governors decides to sack Dumbledore? Will they even wait until the new school year?"

"I doubt the Dark Lord will be satisfied with just his job." They turned to Harry. He had been so quiet since the news. All of his mirth from before had disappeared, leaving behind a grimly calculating look. Draco didn't like it. He scooted closer to him on the large armchair, stopping himself just short of latching onto him with all of his strength.

"Will we be safe here?" Ron sounded genuinely afraid, and he couldn't blame him. "You said once before Hermione, that so long as Dumbledore was at Hogwarts, You-Know-Who couldn't touch us. What happens if he really is sacked?" They were the only ones in the castle. Draco shivered.

"There are spells...enchantments. Hogwarts has never fallen under siege before."

"'Under siege?' It's a school!" Why would anyone want to attack a school? For its books?

Hermione looked at Harry.

He blinked owlishly. "Oh. I don't think he'll come for me. He threw me out, apparently."

"Mate, you seem rather calm, all things considered." Ron eyed his friend in concern.

Harry folded his hands together. "I don't remember any of it. I mean, I know what happened to me, but I cannot picture it in my head."

"That's probably a blessing."

Harry smiled sadly. "Yes. It probably is."

"So," Draco said. "How are you feeling, Harry?"

The boy looked down at his hands as if they might provide the answer. "I feel fine. I've got a bit of a headache, but honestly I've never felt more in control."

That seemed a strange way to word it, but he supposed if he had been watching himself from the inside as his mind was torn apart, he might want some control too.

Hermione put her hand on his arm, the muscles underneath her fingers tensing instantly. Harry was as still as a statue. "If ever you want to talk about it..."

"Thanks, Hermione, but I'd rather not." Her hand fell away, and Harry visibly relaxed.

"We're glad to have you back, though," Ron patted him on the back. "We missed you."

"Did you?" An unreadable expression crossed his face, before his usual shy smile returned. "I missed you guys too. Did anything happen while I was gone?"

"Not much," he shrugged. "The Order was searching for you everywhere, using every scrying method known to wizard kind."

"And what about you guys?"

Draco spoke this time. "They wouldn't let us help. I've been stuck at Black's place since I'm still wanted by the Death Eaters."

Hermione jumped in. "We tried to visit him as much as we could."

Harry's green eyes turned towards him, and as they always did, they sent a shiver through his limbs. "So you were all alone, trying to find me?"

"There was not a minute that passed when you weren't on my mind."

Harry's fingers clutched onto his sleeve, and he hid his face in Draco's arm. His shoulders were quivering, and although Draco couldn't see his face, he knew Harry must be holding back tears.

"I've got an idea," Ron said to lighten the mood. When Harry turned his head to look, there were no tear stains. "Fred and George just sent me a box of their trial goods. Let's try them out."

Hermione, remembering last year, frowned. "Are we sure they're safe?"

He took a moment before answering. "...Sure. Most of it's prank stuff. Hold on." He ran up to his room to retrieve a simple brown box, with an elaborate orange W painted on the lid, which Ron proceeded to pull off.

All manner of items were in there in individual little compartments and with a small note card with instructions. Most of this stuff he recognized from when the twins wouldn't stop bothering him last year at Grimmauld Place. They had seen him as a fresh new victim. Luckily, he had gotten away scot-free, but he had borne witness to many of their uses. For instance, he picked up an ear with a fleshy string wrapped around it. The Extendable Ear. And next to it, a sparkling black clump that was Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

"What's this?" She picked up a jar of green pills. "U-No-Poo?"

Ron burst out laughing. "Merlin, that's brilliant! Come on, Harry, that was pretty clever."

Harry, who was very much not laughing, and looking a little disgusted, said, "I find it vulgar and juvenile."

"Lighten up, Harry. You sound like a stick in the mud."

Hermione sniffed, replacing the jar. "I happen to agree with him."

"Case in point," Draco said without missing a beat, which earned him a rubber chicken to the face.

Harry picked up a plastic back of what looked like gummy candies. "Edible Dark Marks? They're really going after the Death Eaters. Aren't they afraid of retaliation?"

"Oh come on," Ron grabbed one of the candy Marks out of the bag and took a big bite out of it. "It's just a bit of fun. Besides, I doubt You-Know-Who is going to enact revenge on a simple joke shop for such minor insults. I think he's got enough to think about with the Ministry and Dumbledore."

"Besides," Hermione said coolly, as she picked up a yellow box with flashy colors. "I think people need this sort of thing now more than ever."

They spent the rest of their day trying out the Wheezes, and having to figure out how to revert any horrible, unwarned side effects. Eventually, though, they went upstairs to their beds. Since school was out, they had paired off into their own rooms. And how unfair was it that the girls could go into the boy's dorms but not vice versa? No one said anything when he led Harry up to his room, just as he didn't say anything when Hermione followed Ron to his.

The silence hung as heavy as the curtains on the four-poster beds. They changed into their nightclothes and laid down in bed together. Draco examined every part of his face, hoping for some small clue that might tell him about his state of mind. In the dim light of the bedroom, his eyes were a dark forest green, and the shadows of the candlelight danced across his face. Gently, he drew his thumb across the bags under Harry's eyes.

"Really, Harry, how are you?"

"Never better, Draco, honestly," Harry's voice was smooth and deep like a lazy river. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. "It's probably all going to hit me later, but right now I just want to celebrate my return."

"H-How...how do you want to celebrate?" He suddenly became very aware that they were sharing a bed together.

"By getting some sleep." Oh.

"I can grant that." He snuggled closer and put his hand on Harry's hip, just to remind himself that he was really here.

 

* * *

 

  
When Draco woke up, it was to a cold and empty bed. All sleep fell from his eyes, and he leapt to his feet. "Harry?"

No answer.

He ran out of the room and down into the common room. No one. He had just been about to go shouting his name throughout the castle when the portrait door opened. Harry stepped in calmly, as if he hadn't just given Draco a heart attack.

"Harry, where were you?" He latched onto his arms as if to hold him in place.

The other boy blinked slowly. "I was just looking for something. I didn't mean to worry you."

He pulled him close, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs as he cradled his jaw. "I already lost you once. Please..."

Harry smiled softly at him, holding Draco's hands with his own. "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't even leave the castle."

"I won't let him take you again." He didn't think he could survive this once more.

Harry pulled his hands away from his face to kiss them gently. "I know you won't, Draco." Then he kissed him on the lips, and it was so sweet, the thing of his dreams over the summer, that he let himself sink into it. He felt parched, and Harry was an oasis.

"Now, how about we go wake the others and grab some breakfast?"

Once everyone had gotten ready for the day, they headed downstairs to the Great Hall for whatever nutritious meals the house-elves had prepared for them today. He really should ask Dumbledore to move them to the Hufflepuff dorms. These stairs were killing him. Although, with Harry back and fully healed, maybe they would move back to Grimmauld Place. He couldn't see why Dumbledore would bother sending Harry back to his relatives.

Just as they entered the Great Hall, however, their path was blocked by a gloomy shadow of a man. Snape's face twitched as if it didn't quite know where to stay, and his hands were crossed in front of him and drumming incessantly on his knuckles. Draco had never seen his old mentor and professor look so nervous before. He normally didn't portray anything but quiet disdain, and for him to let something as vulnerable as nerves show....

"Potter, I require a moment of your time." Snape stood ramrod straight, his hands clasped comfortably behind his back. He reminded Draco a bit of a statue of a knight on the third floor.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed to take great amusement in his professor's awkwardness. "By all means, Professor, you have it."

"I'll have none of your cheek." Ah, there he was. Then, his face smoothed into a carefully blank mask. "I merely wished to state my regret of certain...words that have crossed between us in the past."

Behind him, Ron gasped, which earned him a snarl from their old professor.

"Are you...trying to apologize?" Draco didn't blame him for his confusion. He didn't think his godfather had ever apologized for anything. No witch or wizard in his family ever did.

"Was I not clear enough? I do not require a response from you, I simply wished to state it." Snape shifted his weight, looking somewhere over Harry's shoulder, before facing him again. "It is my understanding that you have no recollection of your time this summer?"

Harry nodded.

"I see." For a while, it seemed as if Snape would say no further, although he also made no move to leave.

"Um, if that is all, sir?"

"Wait. Potter...Harry. I am not a man of means, like the Malfoys, but I did inherit a humble cottage on the Isle of Wight. It has an acceptable view of the ocean. If you would be agreeable, I should like to take you there someday." Did...did he just invite Harry on vacation?

Harry eyed his professor suspiciously. He must be thinking the same thing as Draco, wondering if perhaps a potion experiment had gone horribly wrong. "Why?"

Snape scowled. "My reasons are my own. Thank of it as a token of my apology, and... a gift to your mother." Before Harry could question him further, he turned, whipping his robes about him purposefully. "Just think on it." And then he left.

"Bloody hell, I think I'm still asleep." Ron rubbed at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm glad to see you two are getting on better, Harry," Hermione said. "Maybe now you'll even come to like Potions."

Ron held his hands up. "Woah, let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Draco laughed, and the muscles felt atrophied.

They dined on Belgian waffles, with fruits and creams, sausages, eggs, and buttery muffins. The pumpkin juice was bottomless, and the food fantastic. Perhaps Dobby had rounded up the other house-elves to throw a congratulations feast on Harry's safe return.

Just as he had decided to call it quits, Dumbledore walked up to their table.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione nearly leapt to her feet. "Any news?"

He waved her back down with a hand. "That's what I came over here to discuss actually. I understand that the events of last night might have caused some alarm, however, the situation has been revised, and I believe both us and our families are safe for the moment. The change in authorities was a swift but nonviolent one. They have yet to implement any new policies, but our spies in the ministry tell us that no plans for Hogwarts have been made yet. Kingsley Shacklebolt is still head of the Aurors, but I fear it may only be a small while before they start their hunt for the Order of the Phoenix. As such, I have contacted your families," not his obviously, "and they all think it best that you remain here at Hogwarts until their positions are secured."

"Is my family...?" Ron asked wide-eyed.

"They are safe." Dumbledore nodded. "Your sister has been sent to live with your aunt Tessie for the summer, and of course, Bill is here. If it is any consolation, Mr. Weasley, I believe that your family's blood status will keep them from real harm."

"And my parents?" Hermione asked.

"They have been informed of the situation and believe that you are safest with those best equipped to fend off magical attacks. And don't worry about them. They have decided to take an impromptu vacation to Australia." And surely Dumbledore didn't have a hand behind that.

Hermione looked distraught, but what did it matter whether it was London or Sydney? She still couldn't go see them, unless she risked drawing Death Eater attention to her Muggle parents. No doubt her status as best friend to Harry and Muggleborn would make her a prime target. It was just starting to dawn on him that this was all real. There was a coup going on behind closed doors. Everyone might look the other way and cover their ears, but it was still there. Merlin, what would school be like this year?

 

* * *

 

  
No matter how many times he explained himself to the boy, Harry just didn't seem to get that disappearing from his sight was giving him heart attacks. Sure, aside from the whole Ministry coup, nothing bad had happened yet, but he just couldn't shake off the feeling that his time with Harry was limited. After all, what was the purpose of capturing Harry and torturing him, just to give him back? Even if he had been meant as a distraction, as Snape had suggested, why not take him back?

"Ron, have you seen Harry?" He struggled to keep his hands from curling into fists.

Ron looked up from a letter he had been reading. "Not since this morning, no. What's wrong?"

"What do you mean 'what's wrong?' He's missing, you git! What if something's happened to him, or--"

Ron abandoned his letter to put his hands on Draco's shoulders. "Woah, woah, mate, calm down. Harry's safe here. If he wants a little time to himself, who are we to restrict him?"

"He shouldn't be left on his own." Was Ron an idiot? Did he think that just because they were in Hogwarts, that Harry was completely safe? There were all sorts of ways he could be taken again. A spy could come in through the Floo. An owl could deliver a Portkey that would transport Harry directly to Lord Voldemort himself. He could abandon all subtly and just send an entire army of Death Eaters to siege the castle.

"Look, we'll go search for him, alright? He left not too long ago, so he shouldn't be far."

They left Gryffindor Tower, Ron following behind at Draco's hurried pace. They didn't have to go far. They were still on the seventh floor when they spotted Harry talking to a house-elf.

"Dobby has placed the bottle in the Headmaster's Office as Harry Potter asked."

"Well done. You may go now."

"Yes, sir."

And then with a loud pop, the elf disappeared, and Harry finally spotted them. His smile faltered when he noticed the furious look on Draco's face.

"Where the hell have you been? Do you know how worried I was?"

"Sorry, I just wanted to step out to talk to Dobby for a bit."

"You didn't have to do that," Ron said with his hands in his pockets. "You know the house-elves can Apparate right within the the common room, right?"

"I know, I guess I didn't want to bother anyone." Harry sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

"Bother me." He tried to retract his hands from their death grip on Harry's arm, but he just couldn't seem to let him go. "It's unsafe for you to wander alone, even in Hogwarts."

Ron just rolled his eyes. He might be getting a little overprotective, but he was justified. "So what did you want Dobby for?"

"Oh. Just a little present for Dumbledore, you know, as thank you for helping me and all that."

Draco snorted. Dumbledore had done nothing while he and Snape had gone off to rescue Harry. Where was his thank-you present? "Come on, let's go find Hermione. I'm sure she can help us with the mountain of Summer homework we have."

Ron groaned. "How can you think about homework at a time like this?"

"This is exactly the time to be thinking about homework. The school year is going to start soon, and we're all behind."

"It feels a little weird doing homework," Ron shrugged. "School just seems like a far-off memory."

"That's just because you're too dumb to finish your work," Harry teased.

"That's harsh, mate. You wound me."

Some of the panic receded, and Draco allowed himself to smile. If Harry was willing to take the mickey out of Ron, then he was obviously in a better frame of mind than he gave him credit for.

 

* * *

 

  
The noise of a door closing aroused Draco from his light slumber. He drearily looked around the darkened room, and nearly wet himself when a shadowy silhouette loomed over him. "Merlin, Harry, you nearly scared the piss out of me. What are you doing up and dressed?"

Harry stepped into the moonlight with an apologetic smile. The bed sunk down when Harry sat on it, causing Draco to lean even closer towards him. "Sorry I woke you," Harry whispered with a peck to his lips.

"Where'd you go? What time even is--?" His words were interrupted by something much stronger than a peck.

"You talk too much," Harry chuckled breathlessly, before snogging the living daylights out of him. He found it hard to argue when a warm tongue was pushing its way past his lips and tickling his palate.

A hand roamed over the exposed planes of his torso, tweaking a nipple before traveling further south to comb through the delicate blond curls hidden beneath his pyjama bottoms. Nails delicately scratched the skin there, and he pulled back with a gasp. When that sinful hand finally, finally wrapped around his cock, he was already hard and moaning. "Harry..."

He could feel Harry's answering chuckle against his neck. "I've barely done anything and look at you... What a slut."

"Oh Merlin, Harry, missed you so much." He shamelessly bucked his hips up, practically fucking Harry's hand. It was always a treat when Harry took the more proactive role.

"I bet you'd do anything for me right at this moment."

"Yesssssss," he bit his lip. "Anything for you."

Even in the dark, Harry's smile was dazzling. "Then come for me."

And Draco was eager to obey. He came with Harry's hand down his pants, panting into the pillow. Stars, when was the last time that had ever happened? He forgot how good the carnal pleasures could be.

Wow, it must have been way too long if he was already feeling tired. Or maybe it was just cause it was the middle of the night, but already his eyelids felt droopy. He pulled Harry down for a lazy kiss, making a reach for his trousers, but a hand stopped him. "What about you?"

"I'm fine. Just go to sleep." And something about Harry's suggestion was undeniable, and while part of him mourned the loss of getting to touch Harry, another, stronger part thought sleep sounded much nicer.

Just as he felt the darkness pull him under, he realized that Harry had never answered his question.

 

* * *

 

  
"Hey Draco," Harry asked him. "You told me once that you like fixing things, right? How might one go about fixing a Vanishing Cabinet?"

"What Vanishing Cabinet?"

"Oh, I found a broken one in the Room of Requirement, and I thought it might be fun to fix it, y'know. Figure out where it leads."

"Is that where you keep disappearing off to? Why would you want to fix some broken old cabinet?"

Harry's eyes drifted up to his right for a moment. "It helps distract me from the memories, and... I dunno, I guess I thought if I could fix this cabinet, then maybe I could fix myself."

"Oh, Harry." He grabbed his hands, squeezing them tight to keep himself from tearing up. "You're not broken."

"I know that," Harry mumbled. "But I don't feel fixed."

No one had ever been more perfect. But if fixing this broken cabinet would help him to see that, then Draco was willing to give it every effort. "If I had to venture a guess, I'd say _Harmonia Nectere Passus_ would do the trick, but it requires a lot of concentrated effort, the sort of stuff that you'd have to do over multiple months. Vanishing Cabinets are surprisingly complicated objects." His father had owned several, and they were convenient for hiding away dark and not necessarily legal items when the wrong person came snooping. He helped his father fix one once, as he didn't trust such an important trump card to anyone else.

Harry leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Draco. I think it's more the act of working on it that's helping as opposed to actually fixing it."

"I could come help you if you like."

"Sorry, but I'd rather be alone during those times. It's a sort of meditation for me, and I don't want to share that with anyone else."

"No, no, I get it." Perhaps he had been a little too clingy, but with the tension in the castle racketed up since the news about the Ministry, he kept thinking Death Eaters might pop out of every corner.

And, of course, that's the exact moment a tall dark man leapt out of the shadows and accosted Draco by the shoulder. He screamed (in a dignified manner), and only once he recognized the strange man as Professor Snape did he silence himself.

Draco hadn't felt this frightened of Snape since before he attended Hogwarts, when his private lessons with the man had been the stuff of nightmares. His black eyes were wide, taking in every single twitch of his face. He loomed over them like some dark, shadowy creature, and although Draco knew he had done nothing wrong, he felt he should apologize. "Have any of you seen anything? Anyone suspicious?"

'Aside from you?' Wisely, he didn't say those words out loud. "No, sir, nothing."

When he turned his fierce gaze onto the others, they eagerly shook their heads in the negative.

"What's this all about, Professor?" Harry bravely asked.

He seemed to take a moment's consideration before answering. "A cursed necklace has been discovered in the Headmaster's Office addressed to him. It contained some very dark enchantments. Oh, don't look at me like that, Malfoy. I know it is well beyond either of your years." He straightened his back, retreating slightly, and with him, his dark aura. "It was not delivered by owl. So it stands to reason that we had an intruder last night."

Draco's heart leapt in fear. An intruder? A would-be assassin? Here? How long had Harry been out of his sight last night? What if something had happened to him? Just to remind himself of his safety, he grabbed onto Harry's hand and held it tight.

"Is the Headmaster alright?" Harry asked.

Snape glared at him. "He will live. It should be unsaid that if either of you notice anything suspicious, you will report it to me or Dumbledore at once." And then he dashed off.

"What do you think happened?" Draco turned back to Harry. "Did someone really sneak in here? How?"

"It's not like Sirius Black didn't do it our third year. I'm sure it's not hard."

"If it wasn't, then the Death Eaters would have already overrun the place. They're hardly being subtle anymore."

Harry laughed. "That's true."

"Come on, let's go flying." He took Harry by the hand and dragged him outside, the sound of his laughter chiming in his head the entire time.

 

* * *

 

  
Draco found himself struggling to find something to do. What had he done his previous Summers? The novelty of living in the castle outside of the school year had worn off, and Harry had this tendency to grow weary of his presence after long periods of time. Hermione had told him that he was being overbearing and "suffocating" Harry with his constant supervision. He didn't want to be his jailer, but all he could think about was how he had been nowhere useful when Harry had been taken.

So he stalked off to go mope on his own. Why was it that he couldn't be happy now that he had finally gotten Harry back? The others were calm and relaxed, and yet he couldn't seem to shake his anxiety. Merlin's beard, there had been an attack on Dumbledore of all people just a couple of days ago, and no one seemed to take this matter seriously.

Well, no one except for Snape, who he just happened to spot striding down the corridor in all his majestic, billowy glory. He thought about perhaps asking him for advice, but before the man could notice him, he had already turned to a statue of a gargoyle and said "Candyfloss." The statue rotated with a soft creak of stone against stone, and ascended to reveal a circular set of stairs that Draco knew led to the Headmaster's Office. He didn't have to be a Slytherin to know that this was a conversation he couldn't miss.

Curious, he followed at a distance, stopping by the entrance to the staircase. He could try and listen at the door, but his steps on the stone might be heard, and if any of them should open the door, he'd be spotted. Draco thanked the annoying, if ingenious Weasley twins as he pulled out his Extendable Ear from his robe pockets. Some of their prank items might be asinine, but they had a few useful bits and bobs. The ear crawled its way up the spiral staircase and out of sight. He really hoped their new Anti-Detection charms worked. He shuddered to think of what the Headmaster and Professor Snape would do to him if they caught him eavesdropping, but if this conversation concerned Harry, then he had to hear it. He was tired of them keeping him out of the loop.

The voices traveling through the fleshy string to his own ear started as whispers before they increased in volume until it sounded like he were in the room with them.

"...you must know, Severus." Dumbledore's voice was clear as a bell, and uncharacteristically somber. "In light of these recent attempts upon my life, I fear I must pass this knowledge on before it's too late."

"Really, sir, poisoned wine and a cursed necklace? Trivial attempts at most."

"You know I am not long for this world, Severus." Draco frowned at that. Did Dumbledore mean...? Sure, the wizard was fairly old, at least a hundred, but he acted so spry. His time couldn't really be up, could it? Whatever Draco had said about the old man in the past, he gulped down a lump of terror in his throat at the thought of facing this world without Dumbledore in it. Without Dumbledore, they were lost.  
  
With a blink of his eyes, Draco realized that he had been too caught up in his own thoughts and had missed some of the conversation.

"...ever considered that you ask too much, that you take too much for granted? Has it ever crossed your brilliant mind that I do not want to do this anymore?"

"Whether it has or has not does not change anything, Severus. It must be done. But I did not bring you here to rehash this argument."

"You said you had something to tell me concerning Potter."

"Yes. I believe he is the one who has been trying to kill me."

Draco's hand flew over his mouth, even though he needn't worry about anyone overhearing his gasp.

"...Do you think it's another personality? That the boy isn't really healed?"

"Yes. And no. Tell me, Severus, have you ever heard of a Horcrux?"

"No."

He heard the shuffling sound of feet and then Dumbledore continued. "A rather dark piece of magic that Voldemort has grown fond of using. There is one time that he did so unknowingly. There is one time that he made a fatal mistake."

"...The night she died."

"Yes. On the night that Voldemort went to Godric's Hallow to kill Harry, and Lily cast herself between them, the curse rebounded. When that happened, a part of Voldemort's soul latched itself onto the only living thing it could find: Harry himself."

Draco stopped breathing.

"There's a reason Harry can speak to snakes. There's a reason he can see into Voldemort's mind. A part of Voldemort lives inside him."

Draco thought he just might drop the Extendable Ear if his muscles hadn't locked into place.

"...So you believe that this part of the Dark Lord has taken control over the boy?"

"I fear that this might have been his plan all along. He must have learned of his unintentional Horcrux when he possessed the boy at the Department of Mysteries. When he could not get past the boy's mental defenses, he sent him to us so that we might do it for him."

"And then he would already be right where he wanted him. His greatest double agent."

Draco dropped the ear and ran.

Somehow, his feet led him towards the lake. It glistened in the hot afternoon sun, and Draco had to shield his eyes from its glare. Wait a minute. There was a person down there. As he got closer, he realized it wasn't just any person, but the very boy they had just been talking about. He'd always be able to find Harry. He had to believe that.

The boy had his back to him, still dressed in his ridiculous Muggle clothes. They hung off of him. Harry had always been a little on the skinny side, but he had looked downright feeble when they had found him in Château de Melusine. How could such a small boy...

Harry turned around, finally noticing his presence and revealing to Draco some sort of tiara in his hands. "What is that?"

Harry smiled at him, but it only gave Draco shivers. "A precious artefact." His green eyes looked up from the object and into Draco's own, before they narrowed. Then his face relaxed into a coy smirk. "You're afraid of me... Ah, so I see my time is up then."

Draco had just enough time for his heart to skip a beat, and then ropes shot out of Harry's wand and wrapped themselves around his arms and legs, sending him falling painfully onto his backside. He heard the crunch of the lakebed and looked up to see Harry smirking down at him with someone else's face. Or rather, it was Harry's face, but someone else was behind it. "Sentimental fool. If you knew, then you should have used the element of surprise." He bent down easily to pluck Draco's wand from his robe, waggling it in front of Draco's face. "You won't be needing this anymore."

Harry stood up to his full height, his features losing all of their mirth and melting into cool disdain. "You disappoint me, Draco. I suppose that runs in the family. You never deserved my Mark."

'I never wanted it,' Draco wished he was brave enough to spit back, but he could only tremble in terror as a demon wearing his lover's face had him at wandpoint.

"Now, what to do with you? This escalates my plans. No time to punish you thoroughly." Draco wanted to throw up knowing that it was really Voldemort standing above him and pouting cutely. The dysphoria left him nauseous. "Oh, I know. Yes, it's quite poetic really." With a flick of his wand, Draco's body was propelled into an upright position, though his feet did not touch the ground. Another wave, and the ropes disappeared, only to be replaced with a metal cuff around his ankle. He followed the connected chain to a giant stone heart.

He looked up to see Harry flashing off-white teeth. A circular motion of his wrist created a large bubble around Draco's mouth and nose. "You're a Slytherin, so it should feel just like home." And then with a flourish of his wand, he sent the stone heart hurtling out towards the middle of the lake, and Draco was pulled along helplessly.

His scream was cut off by the crash of warm water enveloping him and pushing him further and further down into its murky depths.


	7. The Fall of Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perfection - Black Swan  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3c0zNgYFb1E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so quiet this time. Are we enjoying this? Are these chapters boring you to death? Hell, I threw Draco into a lake and nobody said boo. No feedback is just weird.

Draco didn't know how long he floated at the bottom of the lake, held down by Harry's heart. No, not Harry, Voldemort. Even thinking the name caused him to shiver, or perhaps that was the cold water. Near the surface, the water had been warmed by the Summer sun, but the depths of the Black Lake were far removed from sunlight. Even realizing that Harry-- no, Voldemort's Bubble Head Charm seemed infinite, he couldn't sustain his panic. How long until one of the monsters of the lake decided to take advantage of the easy meal he made? What if they didn't? What if he was stuck down there forever? He didn't know which was worse.

He kicked out at the nearest stalk of kelp with his free leg, but it did nothing. So this had been Voldemort's plan all along. They had been such fools! It had been too easy, they all knew, and yet they didn't think... Dumbledore! How long had he known about Harry? Did he not foresee this as a possibility? Why hadn't he done anything about it? He always knew that old codger would be the death of him.

He should have gone to Hermione first. He should have never eavesdropped. He should have--

The kelp in front of him was pushed out of the way to reveal Ron, ghastly red hair floating about his comically surprised face, as if he didn't expect to find Draco at the bottom of the lake. Around his gaping mouth was a bubble very similar to Draco's own.

Ron took about a second to gather his wits before he pulled his wand out of his sock (a strange place to put such a thing) and sent a jet of red sparks towards Draco's foot. He yelped, expecting pain, but with a vibration through the water, he found the metal cuff around his ankle gone. He didn't need Ron's exaggerated pointing to start swimming towards the surface. His arms ached with the movement after being still for so long, and after what felt like ages, he could see the glittering sunlit surface beckoning him higher. When his head broke the surface, the bubble on his face popped, and he took a deep lungful of fresh air.

A wet gasp behind him announced Ron's resurgence, but Draco was too desperate to get out of the water, that he didn't even turn to look at him. He saw the shore, so far away, but he had to get the hell out of this lake. He just kept waiting for something to latch onto his ankle and drag him back down.

"Draco! Draco, over here!" He swiveled around to see Hermione waving at him from a small rowboat, the same boats that the First Years rode at the start of term. He swam over to her, and with an unnerving jolt, he felt himself lifted bodily out of the water to plop down uncomfortably on the hard wooden seat. If she hadn't pulled him out of the water, he would have throttled her for levitating him. He swore he would never let anyone do that to him again.

"I can't believe you were actually down there. Oh lord, are you alright?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Her arm was crudely bandaged and blood crusted her hairline, leading to a darkly developing bruise along her temple.

"It was Harry, he-- Oh, Ron, here." Hermione waved her wand and Ron flew out of the water and into the boat in between the two of them. They waited until the rowboat stopped rocking dangerously, before any of them continued. "Harry, h-he attacked us."

"That wasn't Harry. Couldn't have been." Ron looked absolutely lethal, even when he was soaking wet and coughing up water. "He damn near killed Hermione."

"I'm fine, Ron, really." She placed a dry hand on his shoulder. "But that definitely wasn't Harry. Maybe someone used Polyjuice--"

"No, that was Harry. Or his body, at least." Draco slicked his wet hair back and out of his eyes. "He's being possessed by Voldemort. I'll explain later. How did you guys know where to find me?" Or to even look in the first place.

"When he was attacking us," Ron explained, "the bastard boasted about having hid you where no one would find you. Oh, you should have seen Hermione, mate. She was in top form. Even took the bastard's wand. If he didn't have another one stashed away, we would have beaten him for sure."

Hermione held out a familiar holly wand to him, and Draco delicately picked it up. This was Harry's wand, no doubt. He could feel its magic traveling up his arm and into his heart. "He took your wand, right? You can use Harry's until we get yours back."

Draco nodded, holding onto the only piece of Harry he had left.

Ron continued his explanation. "So once we managed to drive him off, we ran to get the Marauder's Map, and it showed you in the lake. I thought it was broken, but good thing we thought to look."

"Yeah." Draco wiped more water from his eyes. He didn't want to think about how he would have ended up without that miraculous map.

"Oh, here." Hermione pointed her wand at the two of them, sending a blast of hot air that knocked all of the water out of their clothes.

"Thanks." Draco already felt a million times better. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to go for a leisurely swim again. "Wait, what are we just sitting around for? We need to hurry."

"What do you mean?"

"Voldemort is possessing Harry's body. What do you think he plans to do next?"

Ron's eyes lit up in understanding first. "Merlin, he was the one who's been trying to murder Dumbledore."

Hermione looked properly horrified. "And he's going to finish the job. Oh no, we might already be too late." She frantically pulled a folded piece of parchment out of her cardigan pocket. The map. With all three of their eyes scanning, they quickly found the few dots left on the campus. "There! They're in the Astronomy Tower. We still have time."

Thank goodness they knew magic. Who knew how long it would have taken without Hermione sending their boat hurtling towards the boathouse as fast as she could without throwing them all off. They ran up the steps to the castle, and Draco wished he knew some kind of spell to make them all go faster, or hell, just Apparate directly there.

When finally they reached the Astronomy Tower, they could hear the sounds of battle, magic clashing against magic. They need only climb that final spiral staircase to reach the top.

"We still have time," Draco panted. His limbs shook with exhaustion. After all, they had just run the length of the whole castle grounds, but adrenaline kept him going.

"We have to be very careful about this," Hermione said. "Harry used spells I've never seen before, so it's safe to say that he is just as powerful as Voldemort right now."

The boys nodded back at her with grave expressions, wands out. With a final breath, they climbed the first step.

A tap on each of their shoulders sent them whipping around, battle ready. They froze when they saw none other than Professor Snape, his own wand at the ready. He had a finger to his lips, and to Draco's surprise, they all obeyed the silent command. He didn't even let out his sigh of relief. Uncle Severus was here. He would save them.

He held aloft a shimmering cloak. Wait a minute, why did he have Harry's Invisibility Cloak? "You must leave at once. Head to Grimmauld Place. Hogwarts has fallen." Not the encouraging words he wanted to hear.

"But Professor--" Hermione started to protest, but Snape held a finger up to her face with a fierce expression.

The sound of booted feet on stone floors echoed up to them from down the corridor. But the only people in the castle at the time were all in the tower...

"Quick, hide." Snape threw the cloak over them and shuffled them up the stairs to the only spot they could hide: directly under the floor of the top of the tower. It was mainly used for storage, holding many boxes and other dusty detritus. Through the slats in the floorboards, they could see above them to where Dumbledore stood wandless and a monster wearing Harry's skin held a hawthorn wand at him. The battle must have ended already.

"You're weak, old man," Harry hissed in triumph. "As long as I'm in this body, you can't bear to harm me."

Draco held his wand at the ready, wondering if he should take this chance to strike, or to trust in his Uncle Severus. This was so messed up.

Despite being defeated, Dumbledore didn't look worried. "You have me there, Tom."

"Old fool. If you had only killed the boy when you had the chance, you would have killed a piece of Voldemort too. And now, Harry Potter no longer exists. I killed him when I took his body that day. Thank you for getting rid of the lingering ghosts for me. I knew that only the power of love that you hold so dear would pave the way to my rebirth." Harry laughed, a cold and harsh sound. "Ironic, is it not?"

"Yes, yes it is."

"Ah, and my most loyal servant has now arrived. Come, Severus, to your true master."

Snape did not hesitate to walk towards the Dark Lord's side, even if now he had to look down instead of up. What was he waiting for? Why didn't he Disarm Harry? Or Stun him or something?

Thundering footsteps traveled up the stairs, and Draco could see shadows pass just a few feet from where he stood, before he could make out a few Death Eaters standing above them.

"Ah, it seems I came through for myself."

"So what the Dark Lord spoke of has come to pass." Draco would recognize the crazed lilt of his Aunt Bellatrix's voice anywhere. Figures she would show up. "He has really taken control of Harry Potter?"

Harry turned just a few degrees to face her, but his wand never wavered. "Do you doubt your lord so easily, Bella?"

A dainty gasp. "My lord! I never doubted you, my lord, never. The boy was no match for your power."

"Your words are honey-sweet, Bella." Then Harry turned to face Dumbledore fully again. "Now watch, my most loyal, as I claim my final victory."

"No." The word rang out, leaving behind it a trail of silence. Everyone looked to Snape, who looked surprisingly brave considering the impossible feat he had just accomplished. Harry stood completely still, and Draco had to tip-toe a little to the right to get a better look. The Dark Lord's boyish face was completely blank, but Draco knew it contained a wrath of Fiendfyre proportions behind it, just waiting to be unleashed. Snape, however, seemed completely impervious. "You shouldn't dirty your hands."

The fire diminished, leaving behind a cool smile. Harry lowered his wand, and said, "You're right, Severus. Such a disappointing old coot is beneath me. Besides, I think it will be rather poetic for the man he trusted the most to slay him. I am a fan of irony, after all."

Snape nodded, and stepped forward. Draco waited for his great unveiling, for the subterfuge to fall away and for Snape to take down the possessed boy. Even as his professor raised his wand, he waited. Even as he heard the incantation, he waited. Green light hit Dumbledore square in the chest, and sent him hurtling off the edge of the tower and out of sight. Draco felt as if he were drowning in the Black Lake again.

Even though his ears felt like they were full of water, he could still hear a mirthless laugh. "Excellent work, Severus. As a reward, you can take the old man's wand, as a trophy."

Snape bent down to retrieve the wand from where it had fallen out of Dumbledore's hand. With a cool facade, he took the white stick and placed it in the pocket of his robes as if he had merely picked up a sickle he found on the floor.

Harry continued his villainous speech. "Finally, Hogwarts is mine. I think this calls for a celebration. Bellatrix, I do believe I left a Mudblood and a Blood Traitor for you to hunt down."

Bellatrix's laugh was shrill, and it curdled Draco's blood. He'd never much liked his aunt. "It would be a great pleasure, my lord."

"The rest of you, secure the castle. We have a lot of work to do."

Draco stepped back, bumping into Hermione, who had her hands clasped over her mouth like they were stuck there, but hot tears flowed down her cheeks unhindered. The rumbling thunder of footsteps alerted them to the Death Eaters flying down the stairs in glee. Only once they were sure all of them had left, did they creep out of their hiding spot. Draco pulled the cloak off of them, and held it tightly in his fist.

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted that no good--"

"I can't believe Dumbledore's..."

"Harry..."

Draco swallowed a lump in his throat. Things couldn't have gotten worse. Dumbledore dead, Harry possessed, and now Hogwarts fallen. He looked over to Ron and Hermione, his only allies left, his only friends. They were both crying, babbling on. He couldn't believe he'd lost Harry again. "Come on, guys, we have to go. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore."

"We should have known. The minute we heard the Ministry had fallen, we should have just packed up and--"

"Ron!" The both of them turned at his shout. The Death Eaters should have been far enough away, but it still left a tremble in his stomach. "We have to leave. _Now_."

Ron sniffed, wiping away tears with the back of his sleeve. "Right. Right. We...We have to inform the Order."

"Let's go to the Burrow." Hermione seemed to have calmed down now. "We should tell your parents. We'll be safe."

But for how long? Draco had no doubt that with Voldemort's two biggest enemies out of the way, he wouldn't hold back anymore. Still, it shouldn't be immediate. He threw the cloak back over his head, and held it open for the others to join him. It was crowded, and their feet showed, but it gave them a sense of security as they made their way downstairs.

Thanks to the Marauder's Map, they avoided any stray Death Eaters, as few as they may be, and somehow, the castle had never felt emptier than it had all Summer. Only once they had made it towards the gate at the edge of the wards, did they finally unveil themselves. They each mounted the Cleansweeps they had nicked from the broomshed. Draco took one last look over his shoulder at Hogwarts, the Dark Mark glowing in the sky just above the Astronomy Tower.

 

* * *

 

  
Draco took the offered cup of tea from Mrs. Weasley gladly. This was his first time in the Burrow, and he had to admit that it was much larger than he had always imagined. All of the children even had their own rooms, even if none of them were bigger than his closet back at the manor.

He looked down at his faded pink ceramic mug and glanced over to Ron's chipped brown tea cup. Everything about the house was mismatched and hobbled together, a mosaic of different hand-me-downs and cheap furniture. Each item was well-worn and some Draco believed past their use. It definitely looked like the kind of place Harry would like.

"You kids have been through a lot," Mr. Weasley's tone was grave, and he hadn't taken a single sip from the tin mug in his hands. "There should have been more Order members there. Dumbledore shouldn't have thought secrecy would have kept him safe."

Mrs. Weasley put her small hand on his arm. "He did what he thought was best for Harry. Who could have foreseen... That poor boy. And I can't believe Snape would betray us like that."

"You can't betray someone you never sided with from the beginning," Ron spat bitterly.

"This must have been his plan all along," Hermione agreed hotly. "Those Occlumency lessons were probably an excuse to weaken Harry's mind."

"But then why did he tell us to run? Why give us Harry's Invisibility Cloak?" Draco stared down at the brown dregs of his tea. Despite the ache in his heart, some small part of him still believed in his old mentor. He just couldn't help it.

The others didn't seem to have an answer for him, frowning down at their own cups. His left hand settled on his chest, where Harry's wand resided in the inside pocket of his robe. To think that only an hour ago, they had been running for their lives. Was Harry still at Hogwarts? Was he trapped inside his own mind as someone else controlled his body?

"There is some good news though," Mr. Weasley broke the heavy silence softly. "The Trace has been broken."

"What? How?"  
  
"Well, with the Death Eater's overhaul of the Ministry, there were a lot of changes. A lot of chaos. Who's to say what happened to the enchantment..."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "My Arthur was so clever. Of course, now he can never return to work..."

Mr. Weasley patted her shoulder affectionately. "I knew that with a Death Eater puppet in control that the Trace could be used to find you kids. I don't know if anyone figured out it was me. It really was chaos, that day."

"But couldn't they just put it back up?" Hermione asked.

"After a while, they might try. But the Trace was first put up centuries ago for the Statute of Secrecy by very powerful sorcerers on the blood of every known wizard or witch at the time. It follows those bloodlines, even if they were diluted by Muggles, so that even Muggleborns may be found. But now they'd have to go and do it manually, and that will be a huge undertaking. I think they have more pressing concerns on their minds than underage magic."

"So we can safely use magic?" Ron looked at him and Hermione.

Mr. Weasley nodded. "It would have been better if you all were seventeen already, but it should be safe." He set his mug down on the coffee table. "That being said, the world is about to get much darker. Hermione, Ron, I think you should include Draco in your training."

"Training?" He looked between them all. "What training?"

"Apparition," Hermione admitted. "I thought it might be a useful skill, so I have been trying to learn all I can without using magic. Though, I suppose without the Trace, we can move on to a more practical approach."

Draco could see the appeal, being able to just teleport wherever he needed, to just disappear when losing a battle. Although the horror stories he had heard about splinching quelled his excitement. His father had told him once about how one of his associates had tried to Apparate after a bottle of wine, and had only made it with half of his body.

Mrs. Weasley stood up, wiping her hands on the skirts of her dress. "Well now, I think it's best we call it a night, don't you think? You kids have been through the ringer, and I think a good night's rest will help you in the morning."

"But--"

"No, Molly is right." Mr. Weasley stood up too, setting his mug down on the coffee table. "You'll be safe for tonight, and with level heads we can decide what our next course of action should be."

Draco wanted to argue, wanted to shout and rave that they didn't have the time to be sleeping, that Harry was out there, trapped in his own body. He had to believe that. He just had to.

A hand on his shoulder made him look up at Ron. The boy looked far too knowing, and Draco honestly preferred his usual idiotic face. With a sigh, he walked up the stairs, letting the hand fall away. He didn't say anything in reply to the tentative calls for a good night's rest that followed him. With the threat of danger gone, a heavy lethargy hung off of his frame, but he knew he would not find sleep that night. Instead of finding an empty bed to rest in, he pivoted around on his foot, and waited for his two friends to reach the top of the stairs.

Now that he finally got a good look at them, he could see how terrible they all looked. Hermione's bandages had been cleaned and the worst of her wounds healed, but her arm now had a large scar, and her hair still had a bit of caked blood in it. Ron looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. Still, they were the only people he could count on.

"We need to find everything we can about Horcruxes."

They paused to hit him with awake eyes inside of tired bodies. "Horcruxes? What are those?"

And so Draco told them everything he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty short chapter, but now we've set up the main plot, so it's gonna have more action from here on.


	8. What's In a Horcrux?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witchcraft by Frank Sinatra  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFmNgiEgPoQ

The Weasley parents hadn't liked their plan overly much, but agreed to let them go (not that Draco would have listened to them if they objected). Grimmauld Place was their safest location now that Hogwarts had fallen, and with Sirius there, well, at least they would have some form of adult supervision. They would have come along, but Hermione had brought up the very good point that running away when no one was looking for them would almost assuredly send them after them. Plus, when the new Ministry inevitably stopped by looking for the three of them, they would need the Weasleys to redirect them. And most importantly, Sirius Black was more likely to let them pull dangerous stunts, like hunting down Dark information. Even though Draco wouldn't trust Sirius Black to watch his houseplant. He had been stuck in that miserable place with the grieving mutt for months. The only thing keeping him from starvation had been Kreacher, who had been all too happy to finally serve a worthy pure-blood. And if it hadn't been for Ron and Hermione visiting him, he just might have gone insane. The man had locked himself in his room the whole time, listening to one song over and over. Honestly, Draco had it memorized by heart now, and would do anything to never hear it again.

So of course that was the first thing they heard when they opened the front door.

_'Cause it's witchcraft,_  
_wicked witchcraft._

Ron turned his head to the side to hear better. "He's doing it again. I thought he would have stopped once we found Harry."

Draco didn't give a flobberworm's arse what the reason was. He stomped down the hallway and up the stairs.

_And although I know it's strictly taboo._

When he tried the doorknob, he found it locked. With a frustrated growl, he pulled out Harry's wand from his robes and blasted off the brass knob and kicked open the door. Sure enough, Sirius was curled up in a ball on top of the covers of his bed, an old gramophone blasting out the jovial swing music. Draco took great delight in also blasting it to pieces.

Sirius sat up instantly, whirling on him with rage, but Draco beat him to the punch. "What in Merlin's beard do you think you are doing?"

"Malfoy, I swear to the stars if that record can't be repaired..."

"Sod the bloody record. Is it more important than your godson?"

Sirius ignored him, rushing over to the broken pieces and hastily waving his wand. The splinters flew together until the gramophone looked good as new. "I know what happened to Harry. Molly Flooed me. I...I've lost him again. I've lost everything."

Draco really wanted to throw a curse, and he was having a hard time reasoning out why he shouldn't. "He's not dead, you twit. He's still out there, waiting for us to save him, and here you are moping about with your tail between your legs. It's no wonder you've 'lost everything' if all you do is sit around and cry about it."

"Draco..."

He ignored Hermione's gentle reprimand. She didn't have to live with this arsehole for nine weeks. "You weren't the only person to have lost someone that night." Too disgusted to even continue yelling at the man, he turned around and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Of course, without a doorknob, it only swung back open, which only pissed him off more, and that curse was starting to look mighty tempting. "I'm going to the library to find a way to save Harry. Keep your useless moping down." And then he stormed off.

Ron and Hermione didn't join him immediately. He didn't know whether it was to help Sirius or to give him some time to cool off, but either way, he had already gone through three different tomes on Dark magic before either of them showed up. The gentle creak of the library door told him that Hermione must have drawn the short stick to have to try and talk him down. If she thought ten minutes was enough to cool his ire, then she obviously didn't know how well a Malfoy could hold a grudge.

Without looking up from the grimoire in his hands, he spat out, "I don't care if the bastard went to Azkaban or was disowned by his family, or anything else about his tragic life."

When he didn't get an immediate response, he looked up at a gently smiling Hermione. "The Order destroyed most of the truly Dark stuff when we cleaned this place, so I'm not sure if we'll find anything useful." She walked up to a shelf opposite from him and pulled a faded lilac book. "I never did get the chance to properly organize this place, so good luck trying to find anything."

Of course, it didn't hold a candle to the Hogwarts library, but most respectable pure-blood families had a proper book collection, enough to warrant its own room with many shelves. Such a thing was more impressive in the past when even owning a handful of books was something only the wealthy could afford. Malfoy Manor had a much larger library than this and a smaller, hidden book collection that Draco wasn't supposed to know about. Honestly, he would rather they check there, if he wasn't positive that they would be walking right into Death Eater HQ.

"Where's Ron?" He had expected a whole lecture about empathy and compassion or something.

"We've already overloaded his capacity for emotions for the day," she gave him a little smirk that indicated that she was only half-joking. "He went out to fetch some snacks. The pantry is rather sparse."

"Isn't that what Kreacher is for?"

Her lips pursed like she had just eaten something sour, and he steeled himself for the impassioned rant he would soon endure. He kept forgetting about her insane idea to free the house-elves, as if they even wanted freedom.

"He already has to clean this entire house. And since he refuses to accept any form of payment, I'll just have to lighten his workload."

"I thought you liked elves? Why do you keep insulting them?"

"I'm not--"

"House-elves take pride in their jobs. Trying to free them or give them a wage means that they have done a poor job."

"That makes no sense. Who wouldn't want to be free?"

Draco swallowed a lump in his throat. "You'd be surprised."

"Fine, let's stop this conversation before you start smashing any of my stuff."

He growled at her, which just made her laugh. He probably would hex her, but something about the sound untangled a knot in his stomach, so he supposed he could forgive her insolent behavior just this once.

 

* * *

 

  
It took them days to comb through all of the books in the Black library. A lot of them he remembered skimming through last year. He wondered if that boggart had made its way back into the attic. He tried very hard not to think of a sneezing Harry, and when he failed, he threw the Legilimency book in his hands at a wall. "This is a bloody waste of time."

Hermione jumped up and cradled the book as if it were an infant.

Ron put down his own book with a sigh. "We knew it was going to be a stretch."

"You don't suppose it's worth it to try and sneak back into the Hogwarts library?"

Ron shook his head. "If Dumbledore knew about this all along, there's no way he would have left any book about it there, even in the Restricted Section. No sense in letting another You-Know-Who happen again."

"Nevermind Dumbledore," Hermione set the book back in its place on the shelf. "I doubt Voldemort would let that knowledge just lie around."

The full weight of their impossible task sunk down on them. They had no leads, no clues, and no Harry Potter. How were they supposed to save him from something inside of him?

"Sod it," Ron stood up, stretching his arms above his head with a loud groan. "I'm going downstairs to get a sandwich. You guys want to join me?"

"Yeah," Draco looked at the pile of open books strewn about them. "I don't think we're going to make any more progress here."

They headed to the kitchen, and Kreacher was more than happy to whip something up for Draco and his unworthy friends. When a chicken sandwich with melted cheese was placed in front of him, he turned a bright smile towards the wrinkled old elf. "Kreacher, you honor the House Black with your excellent service."

If he didn't know any better, he'd say the old elf was blushing. "Master Malfoy is being too kind. Kreacher wishes only to serve."

Draco sent a pointed look at Hermione that went ignored.

"Is that cheddar cheese I smell?"

All three of them jumped, and turned to spot a haggard man haunting the doorway. This was the first time Draco had seen Sirius since he had broken the man's record. He didn't look any better. He blinked at their faces, and then nervously scratched the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, I'm intruding."

"No, you're not," Hermione quickly said. "This is your house."

Sirius only shrugged, but he entered the kitchen and joined them at the small breakfast table. It was only when he spread it out on the table did Draco realize that he had been carrying a newspaper. The Daily Prophet, in fact. "I think there's something you all should see." With a grim face, he flattened out the first page, and pointed at the title, although it was completely unnecessary.

HARRY POTTER MADE UNDESIRABLE NO. 1

Underneath it was an old photo taken from his trial last year. Merlin, Harry looked so young in it, so small. The edge of the table dug into his side, but he completely ignored it in favor of getting a better view of the article.

"It seems our Harry has gone rogue," Sirius explained. "There's a hefty sum for him. Alive. That was heavily stressed."

"Wait, that's good, innit?" Ron looked between all of them. "Harry must have regained control and escaped?"

Hermione shook her head, her finger curled around her chin in thought. "If that were true, wouldn't he have come straight here?"

"Maybe he's on his way right now. It's not exactly like he knows how to Apparate."

It was a nice thought, but Draco didn't dare to let himself hope. "I don't think so. Vol... You-Know-Who...he seemed pretty in charge, I don't think Harry would suddenly gain control. I think it's more like he's left the Death Eaters."

"But why would he do that? He's, well, you know."

"Remember the way he spoke at the Astronomy Tower? He spoke about the Dark Lord like he were a separate entity with independent thought."

Hermione's eyes lit up in realization. "They are rivals? Now we have two Dark Lords in competition with each other?"

Sirius ran a hand over his face. It pulled at the bags under his eyes. "As if one Voldemort wasn't bad enough."

"Well, that's still good, right?" Ron, ever the hopeful soul. "They aren't working together."

"Harry's a wild card," Hermione said. "That could be dangerous, for both sides."

Draco looked at his chicken sandwich, no longer hungry. "This doesn't change anything. We still have to find a way to save him."

"Ah, about that..." Sirius straightened up from the table, his gaze lowered so that he avoided eye contact. Draco could just imagine the tail between his legs, and an uncomfortable feeling bubbled up in his gut. Merlin, he hoped that wasn't guilt. Without looking at him, the Animagus said, "I believe I owe you kids an apology, especially to you Draco. I didn't take... what happened very well." His hands fidgeted in front of him before he forced them to his sides. "I can sometimes get lost in myself. I'm the adult here. I should have been the responsible one. I should have..." He cut himself off, staring hard at the peeling wallpaper of the kitchen wall.

"Oh, Sirius," Hermione's voice was full of sympathy. "Everyone deals with their grief in their own way. No one blames you..." She stopped, glancing at him, before deciding not to finish that sentence. A vindictive part of Draco wanted to sneer, but that was just rubbing salt in the wound. He'd made his point, and here Sirius was apologizing for it. This was Harry's godfather, as close as a future in-law as he would get. He should play nice.

"Anyway, what I really wanted to say is that I am going to pull myself up by my bootstraps, as it were, and help. I want to save Harry, as I should have done a long time ago."

"That's great, Sirius," Ron beamed while side-eyeing Draco's untouched sandwich. At his obvious looks, he nodded and pushed the plate towards the redhead.

Finally, Sirius took the open seat, his head up. Draco had the image of perked up ears and a wagging tail, and tried not to smile. "So Ron told me the gist of what's going on. Harry's this thing called a Horcrux, which means a part of Voldemort's soul is inside of him?"

Draco nodded. "That's what I overheard Dumbledore and Snape talking about." At the old Headmaster's name, any cheer fled. Had it really only happened just a few days ago?

Hermione said in a small voice, "I still can't believe he's really gone. How are we going to do this?"

Sirius leaned forward on the table. "You can kill a phoenix, but it will just be reborn from the flames." The words gave them all a bit of courage, and their eyes brightened. If Voldemort thought his opposition was crumbling, he would be sorely mistaken. Draco felt his determination renewed. He would save Harry, and then they would kill the bastard that did this to him together. "So, what we need to do is learn all we can about Horcruxes, see if there is a way to safely remove it from Harry."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. We've been all through the Black library, and found nothing. Any books dark enough were destroyed or confiscated by Dumbledore. I don't suppose he would keep them lying around his office."

"Even if that were true," Ron added, wiping the crumbs off of his hands, "I doubt Hogwarts is safe for us anymore."

"I doubt anywhere is safe for you children. No doubt the Death Eaters will expect Harry to run to you." Oh. He hadn't thought of that. "I'll contact the other members of the Order, ask them to put out some feelers. This is some very rare, very dark magic we're talking about."

"And what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Just wait?" He would go mad.

"On the contrary," Sirius finally gave them his normal, devil-may-care smile. "I don't think we'll have enough time. You three may have done a bit of extra training in defense at your DA meetings, but you are nowhere near ready to take on a rogue Dark Lord. I'm going to have to whip you guys into shape."

Ron looked the most excited. "What happened to keeping children out of the Order? Aren't we too young to be soldiers?"

"Sod that! I can't shield you on my own, and you kids are nearly of age. You need to know how to defend yourselves." After a pause, Sirius added, "I'll write an apology letter to your mum afterwards."

 

* * *

 

  
The first thing the others had wanted to learn was Apparition. He had voted on learning some defensive spells, but two votes beat one. They stood in the parlor, having already moved all of the furniture out of the way.

"Now, just remember the three D's," Sirius said too cheerfully for the churning in Draco's gut.

Hermione helpfully interjected, "Determination, Destination, and Deliberation."

"Yes, excellent, Miss Granger. Twenty thousand points to Gryffindor." Sirius grinned. "Yes, one must be determined to reach one's destination, and move with deliberation."

Ron leaned over to Draco to whisper, "Do you think that actually worked?"

"Of course not, you dolt. He's not a teacher." Ron scrunched his face at his tone, but Draco's nerves were too ratcheted up for him to apologize.

"Ah-ah, no talking in class, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy. One gajillion points from Slytherin." Sirius wagged his wand in a reproachful manner, despite his teasing grin.

"I don't think that's even a real number," Draco grumbled. Why was his house the only one being punished? Wait, what was he getting upset for? He wasn't even a student anymore.

Sirius just waved away his words with an up-turned nose. He really was having too much fun with this. "Failure to meet those requirements can result in splinching. You need to be completely focused. That's why, until you three become more experienced, I forbid you from Disapparating during a battle."

"What?" Both Ron and Hermione said in unison.

"If you are too frantic and afraid to focus, then you're more likely to hurt yourself. And so I have taken it upon myself to create a few emergency Portkeys." He pulled three large feathers out of his pocket and handed them each one. Draco realized that they must have come from the hippogriff upstairs. He held his own warily, although he knew it couldn't actually attack him. "Just stroke the shaft, and it will take you here."

Ron wore a leering grin, which earned him a smack in the head from Hermione. Great, now any time they use their Portkeys, they're going to think about cocks. And what a horrible time for him to realize that he had technically gotten a handjob from Voldemort. Oh, Merlin. He'd never be able to get it up again.

Sirius continued. "So let's practice." Using his wand, he marked three widely spaced circles on the floor in front of him. "Try to Apparate into the circle."

Draco blinked. "Wait, that's it? We're not going to work up to it?"

"There is no way to 'work up to it.' The only way to practice is to just do it."

"But aren't there Anti-Apparition wards on this house?"

"Yes, to prevent people from Apparating in or out of the house, but nothing preventing you from moving within it. It's perfectly safe, see?" With a quick turn and a loud pop, Sirius suddenly appeared on the far side of the room by the doorway.

"But what if we splinch ourselves?"

"Despite my appearance, I am rather familiar with healing spells. A necessity when you're a bit of a scoundrel." He hit them with a debonair smile which made the others laugh, but Draco only frowned more.

"I don't think we should be doing this without a licensed Healer on standby."

"What's wrong, Draco? Are you scared?"

"Shut up, Weasley. I'm only being cautious. People have died from splinching, you know." Also, he was scared. "Besides, I don't have my wand. It probably won't work as well for me."

This did give Sirius pause. "You don't?"

He pulled out Harry's wand from his inner pocket. "Harry took mine when he...wasn't himself. Hermione Disarmed him in a fight and gave me his."

"So you've switched wands? How well does it work for you?"

He shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't used it yet. It felt strange in his hands, so unlike the comforting warmth of his own hawthorn wand. The nerves in his hand felt hyper-sensitized, almost as if the wand were an icicle, without actually feeling cold.

"Well, why don't you give it a try?"

Draco scrunched his lips into a frown, and throwing caution to the wind, waved the wand while chanting, "Lumos." Suddenly the room was filled with a blinding white light, and he heard a chorus of groans as they all tried to shield their eyes.

Luckily, Hermione was smart enough to call out "Nox," and then they were plunged into darkness. Or, wait, not darkness, but momentary blindness, as the spots danced around their view.

"Ow, bloody hell."

Draco still couldn't see, no matter how many times he blinked. His vision swam. Oh Merlin, he didn't really just blind all of them permanently, did he?

"Ah, well, it's certainly...eager to perform. Oh." Sirius was only a blur of colors, but he was slowly gaining shape.

"It'd be romantic if it didn't hurt so much," Hermione ground out.

There, his vision was returning, and he could see the others blinking wearily at him. He rubbed his eyes.

"Do you think the same will happen for Harry?" Ron asked.

He remembered a moment last year, when Harry had accidentally grabbed his wand and blinked at him in surprise. He had felt Harry's magic push through his wand as if it were himself. Was the same true for Harry? Did he feel a tug on his magic, wherever he was? Draco hadn't felt that sensation ever since, not even when Harry had dueled Dumbledore. Perhaps the feeling lessened with distance?

"Ah, suffice it to say, you cannot practice Apparition with that wand." Draco tried hard not to look too relieved.

 

* * *

 

  
After the letter Sirius had sent to the Weasley parents ensuring the safety of their son in his home, they didn't receive much mail. Sirius had sent many letters out, coded of course, should they ever be interrupted, but he had yet to receive anything in return. The only news they got from the outside was through _The Daily Prophet._ Usually it contained unimportant articles about cheating celebrities (or so they conjecture), but today was different. Today, they looked at a gruesome photo of Peter Pettigrew's corpse.

Or well, not a corpse. According to the article, Pettigrew was still alive, if that word could even be used, just soulless. His eyes were wide open in fear, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream, drool dribbling down. The only wound he had was a deep gash on his right arm, ostensibly where the blood was drawn to paint the single word on the wall: TRAITOR. It was not enough to kill him, although Draco would have considered that a small mercy. The Dementor's Kiss...

"Harry did this," Ron said grimly.

Draco did a double-take so fast his neck nearly snapped. "What makes you say that? It says here that he was Kissed. Besides, does Harry even know who this bloke is?"

If possible, the others looked even more grave.

It was Hermione who answered. "Peter Pettigrew is the man who betrayed Harry's parents to Voldemort."

Sirius' hands were clenched into trembling fists, his lips pulled back in a snarl. "He was their Secret Keeper, and at the first sign of danger, he spilled everything."

Now Ron spoke up. "And according to common belief, he was murdered by Sirius fifteen years ago."

Oh yeah. He had read something about that in the papers around their third year. He knew Sirius Black was supposed to have killed all those Muggles. Of course, everyone had told him that these accusations were false, but judging by the look on the man's face now, he could believe it. "And you think Harry did this in revenge? But if he's possessed by V-Voldemort, why would he attack one of his own followers?"

The dark look on Sirius' face lessened a smidge. "Who's to say? He is a rival Dark Lord. Perhaps he was merely slimming down Voldemort's support. Perhaps he refused to work for him?"

Draco shook his head. He couldn't see Harry essentially killing anybody. But then again, this wasn't really Harry.

"Wait a minute," Hermione gasped. "Everyone thinks you've killed Pettigrew, Sirius, but here he is, brain-dead, sure, but only recently. And with a Dark Mark to boot. This proves you didn't kill him. You could appeal to have your case reopened."

"Only one problem, 'Mione. The Ministry is under Death Eater control. There's no way they'd set him free."

"Not everyone in the Ministry is a Death Eater, right? Just all the people at the top are puppets? So long as the jury is unbiased, he should be safe."

Sirius shook his head. "That's a nice thought, Hermione, but I don't think it will work out like that. I'm more likely to be recaptured."

"But the Dementors have left Azkaban, right? I'm sure it's much easier to escape from now." Ron shrugged.

"No!" Sirius' shout rang in the silence. They all jumped. Then, much softer, he said, "I'm never going back there. Ever. Again. Even if I must live in this accursed house for the rest of my life."

That horrible feeling that was probably guilt came back. He had forgotten that this man had spent twelve years being fed off of by Dementors in that horrible prison, only to be trapped in this dreary house. Draco had felt insane after only a few months.

Hermione looked a lot less hopeful. "We'll figure something out." No one believed her.

 

* * *

 

  
Draco woke up from his afternoon nap with a jolt. Harry Jr! His little dragon was still back at Hogwarts. He had never had the chance to go retrieve him from his room. What if those Death Eaters did something to him? Oh no, and Hedwig! He had promised Harry that he would take care of her, and he didn't even think to check on her before they left. No, no, he should calm down. They wouldn't know the password to get into Gryffindor Tower. He was probably fine, and Hedwig could take care of herself. She probably flew away when the fighting started. With a sigh, he sat up, wiping his sweaty forehead with sweaty hands. His anxiety was getting worse.

A quick Tempus charm revealed that he had slept well past supper. Perhaps adding training to his stress was more draining than he realized. Or maybe it was Harry's wand? Maybe the reason all of his spells were so monstrously overpowered was because it was sapping more magic from him than it should. Either way, he still felt weary, but forced himself out of bed and down the stairs.

His timing was impeccable, for no sooner had he entered the living room to find the others did the Floo flare up, spitting out a soot-covered Tonks. She coughed out ash, shaking the dust from heir lime green hair, now spiky and pointing every which way. She looked up from her dusting to notice him staring at her. "Wotcher, Draco. When's the last time you guys cleaned your Floo?" To emphasize her point, she gave another little cough.

The sound finally snapped him out of his surprise and he walked up to her. "What are you doing here, Tonks?" It still felt strange to be on speaking terms with his ostracized cousin. Although he supposed he was now ostracized too. She wasn't nearly as deplorable as his mother made her out to be.

"I've got news. Where's Sirius and the others?"

Her question was quickly answered by the man himself sticking his head in, followed quickly by Ron and Hermione. "Is that Dora I hear? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She smiled at him, another Black relative, and Draco was finding this all so strange how closely tied these almost strangers were to him. "I come baring news of the outside world." With a cheeky grin, she flopped herself down on a dark gray chintz sofa. Taking her cue, they all eagerly sat down too.

"Have you been alright, Tonks?" Ron asked. "With the Ministry takeover, I mean."

"Oh, that?" She waved her hand easily. "That was all upper management. They didn't bother with little people like me, although my assignments have been reduced drastically. All of the Order members in the Auror department are still there, even Shacklebolt. Of course, we're being watched so we can't move as freely." Then her smile fell, and she clasped her hands in front of her. "No, I came here to warn you kids, especially you, Hermione."

"Me?" said girl blinked owlishly.

"Yes. The Ministry has set up the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. All Muggle-Borns must register, especially children. Attending Hogwarts is now mandatory, and your absence will be noted. Failure to register, or harboring a known unregistered Muggle-Born is cause for arrest."

Ron stood up in indignation. "That's absolutely mental! People can't let this happen."

"It's already happening, Ron. They've set up Snatchers to go round up all Muggle-borns and blood traitors. I can guarantee you three are high on their list, being Harry's friends. Under no circumstances can you three be spotted. Trace or not, you will be found."

Draco swallowed a lump in his throat. They were really at war, weren't they? No one was saying it, but they all knew it to be true. There was no Dumbledore to fall back on now.

After taking a moment to let the words sink in, Tonks continued. "I do have some good news, however. I got your letter, Sirius, and with my reduced workload, I've had a lot of free time on my hands." Her dark eyes twinkled.

Sirius leaned a little further in his seat. "And?"

"I think I know where you can find the information you seek. In the Department of Magical Education, there is a vault for confiscated and forbidden books taken from schools over the years. It's full of all sorts of Dark lore."

"Excellent," Ron perked up. "So you can just go in and find the book for us, right?"

"Wrong. Such a trove of Dark knowledge; not just anyone can enter. Only the head of the department and above have access. Even if I were to request access for a case, I personally could not go in, if my request wasn't simply denied. I'm afraid you guys'll have to sneak in. Even if I were to disguise myself as the Minister, you need the key to get in."

"Why is this place so heavily guarded? It's just a bunch of books," Draco scoffed.

"Knowledge is power. After all, it's what you desperately need in order to save Harry, right?"

"Then where is this key?"

"It's in the office of the Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge."  
  
And then Ron said ever so eloquently, "Well fuck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heist! Heist! Heist! Heist!
> 
> Ocean's Eleven, but with magical school children.


	9. The Vault of Forbidden Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ministry of Magic - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zwm3pFI15FU  
> The Holly and the Ivy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0wK60zxmctI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write a heist chapter so bad, you guys. The chapters where they sneak into the Ministry in Deathly Hallows were my favorite.

  
_He was back in the lake again, murky green light filtering through the water and highlighting the forest of kelp that surrounded him. The water pushed down on him from all sides, terribly cold, pushing on his head, his mouth... Oh no! The Bubble-Head Charm! He was going to drown._

_But he didn't. In fact, he could breath just fine if the sounds of his panicked breaths were to be believed, noises which he shouldn't even be able to hear if he were truly underwater. This impossibility was ignored in favor of sudden terror when something grabbed his ankle and pulled him further down and down, until the light of the sun was completely blocked out._

_So dark. So cold. As if all the light had drained from the world. He could see his breath misting in front of him like a tiny cloud. He heard a shrieking sound that at first sounded like nails on a chalkboard, but as he descended further, he realized it was the sound of a woman screaming. His mother's Unforgivable screams._

_A light! Instead of the murky sunlight from up above, it was a warm, golden glow that gently traveled up from below. He looked down and saw that the thing pulling his ankle was a cuff with a chain that attached to a shining golden heart, still beating. He could feel its warmth from far away, and instead of being dragged towards it, he eagerly swam down. Such a beautiful treasure..._

_The moment his fingertips brushed its golden surface, the darkness flew away and he found himself on white pavement, the crashing sounds of the waves louder from above the surface. The Château de Melusine had been decorated for a grand party: house-elves popping into existence all over the courtyard with silver trays carrying crystal goblets of ruby wines and golden slices of treacle tart. Nearly a hundred brilliantly dressed witches and wizards with indiscernible faces milled about, laughing merrily or cheering. Draco ignored all of them for his parents standing in front of him in crisp white robes and platinum blond hair glowing._

_His father took a step forward, the golden chain of his fob watch jingling delicately, and placed a large hand on his shoulder. In an uncharacteristic smile, he said, "I'm proud of you, son."_

_Then his mother pulled him into a tight embrace, kissing his hair, the same beautiful color as hers. "Oh, my little Dragon... You were so brave. Mummy loves you." And then she patted his head as she hadn't done since he had first ridden a broom._

_But sadly, her arms retreated, and before he could reach out for more, he was spun around to face Hermione and Ron. They were both smartly dressed in clothes he knew neither of them could truly afford, and both of them were beaming at him with the biggest smiles he had ever seen._

_"Oh, Draco, you did it! You did it!" Hermione looked like she was just barely restraining from tackling him in a giddy embrace. He had seen her level Harry and Ron with those powerful hugs, as if all of the love inside of her had boiled over, and she couldn't contain it anymore. He wondered what that felt like._

_Ron beside her nodded. "You were a real hero, mate. I always knew you were good enough for our Harry. Here, a little wedding present from the two of us." Out of his pocket he drew forth a cherry-red apple, a single bite taken out of it. "Sorry. We got a little hungry on the way here." He shrugged his shoulders._

_But before he could question them on the weirdness of their gift, he was spun around again to face Harry, his Harry, clad in white dress robes with a cape that looked like the wings of a swan. Harry, his too green eyes flickering towards the ground in a bashful manner that sent his heart in a whirl, gently grabbed both of his hands to cradle them gently to him. With cheeks rosy from embarrassment, he slid a golden ring onto Draco's left hand. Sweet Merlin, he was getting married to Harry Potter!_

_He looked over to his father in surprise. Surely the staunch blood purist and Death Eater would oppose, but his father only smiled proudly at him. "Draco, he's perfect for you."_

_Somewhere distantly, he could hear a chorus of people singing The Holly and the Ivy. He found it difficult to focus on the words when Harry was staring at him as if he had hung the sun in the sky. "Dance with me?"_

_As if Draco could deny him anything. He took his hand and waist, instantly pulling him close so that his warmth would touch his entire body. Harry laughed when they went into a spin, and his fingers dug a little too hard into the boy's side. He was here. He was really here._

_Something cold touched his nose, and Draco looked up to see fluffy white snowflakes drifting down lazily. When he looked back down, all of the people had disappeared, and they were on the frozen pond in Hogsmeade in the middle of winter. Despite the pure white of the world around them, Draco didn't feel the slightest chill. In fact, he felt too warm. When he looked at their feet, worried that they might slip on the ice without skates on, he saw a perfect reflection of themselves as if they were dancing on a mirror. The image was so clear, he could even see each individual snowflake, like stars in the sky._

_A finger on his chin forced him to meet Harry's eyes. "Don't look at your feet. Focus on me."_

_It was as if Harry had cast_ Engorgio _on his heart; it felt as if it had suddenly swollen to a size too large for his ribs to contain. Or perhaps he was just getting dizzy from how much they were spinning around._

_Harry lifted his hands to Draco's face, warm on his cheeks. "You're my hero, Draco."_

_He couldn't contain it anymore. "I love you, Harry. I love you so much."_

_Harry smiled, his red lips bright compared to their white background. "And I'll always love you too, Draco. Please remember that." Then his eyes fluttered shut, his lips puckering and tilting ever so closer to him. Draco eagerly accepted the invitation and leaned down to..._

He woke up to the dismal grey wallpaper of his room in Grimmauld place, alone.

 

* * *

 

  
"Are you sure about this, Sirius?"

"I am, Hermione. We've looked at it from every angle. This is the best way. And it's for Harry."

They all stood under Sirius' Umbrella Charm. Hermione had been Transfigured by Sirius to look like an adult, her frizzy hair smoothed down into sleek blonde curls, and her figure more plump in her dark grey business robes. She looked professional and stern, the perfect guise for an attorney about to represent a notorious mass murderer in trial. Ron on the other hand, had been spelled to look like an older, more weasel-like version of himself. He had been informed that he was to look like his brother Percy, whom he vaguely remembered from their years at Hogwarts. As Junior Assistant to the Minister, he could get them through a lot of doors. Of course, assuming they don't bump into the real person along the way. The whole purpose of Sirius' trial was to draw the elder Weasel out of the way, as he would most likely be the scribe for the Minister. Well, and to free the man himself.

"Are we sure we can't just sneak in at night?" Draco asked from underneath Harry's Invisibility Cloak. As much as they had all grown over the years, it was really only big enough to cover one person completely.

"We went over this already," Hermione chastised him, still working on trying to disguise her voice as more of an adult's. "After our break-in last year, they have severely increased their security at night. The best time to do this is in broad daylight."

"And with my trial as a distraction," Sirius' smile was strained.

Hermione put a comforting hand on his arm. "I _will_ win this trial for you, Sirius. I know that's not our main goal, but I've studied every obscure law this past week. The only crime you are guilty of is being an unregistered Animagus, which they don't even know about. They can't hold anything against you."

Considering it was their enemies in power, he highly doubted they would play fair. Still, Sirius smiled at her, the wrinkles around his brow lessening. "And if worst comes to worst, we'll use your feather to escape."

"It won't come to that. I swear you're going to walk out of that building a free man." When she said it with such conviction, he could almost believe her. Hermione could be scary when one of her own was threatened, like a lioness protecting her cubs; even if said cub was a thirty-six year old man.

Still, Sirius looked skeptical, but continued forward anyway. Their Muggle-Repelling Charms kept them alone the entire walk to the visitor's entrance. While Draco was grateful, it made their wet walk tense and eerie. All too soon, they reached the red phone booth. Getting all four of them in was tight, and Draco became uncomfortably acquainted with Ron's backside. Under his shoe, he could see a soggy cover of _The Daily Prophet_ , where that old picture of Sirius in Azkaban screamed at them from underneath the headline: SIRIUS BLACK UP FOR RETRIAL. Maybe they should try a subtler approach...

"Ugh, can anyone reach the phone?" Sirius ground out, his face flat against the window.

"I got it!" Hermione reached over Ron's shoulder to dial 6-2-4-4-2.

A gentle woman's voice sounded out from the device. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and purpose of visit."

"Uhh..." Bollocks, they didn't think about this part. Of course they couldn't just waltz right in.

It was Ron who spoke up, speaking in a pompous manner, "Percy Weasley, Junior Assistant to the Minister's Office, here to escort Sirius Black and his attorney Luna Thomas to his hearing."

After a moment, the woman chimed in again. "Welcome. Please take these badges and pin them to the front of your robes. All visitors must submit their wand for inspection at the Visitor's Center at the far left side of the Atrium. Thank you and have a wonderful day." Out of the black device on the wall shot out three badges, each with the names Ron had given them, with their intended destination under it in neat, curling letters.

"Oh wait, Sirius," Hermione said. "Give me your wand for safekeeping. They'll just confiscate it the moment we get there and you'll probably never see it again."

"Right." As much as he was able to, Sirius handed his wand over to Hermione, nearly poking Draco in the eye along the way.

As soon as the three of them had managed to pin the badges to their chests, the phone booth descended into the ground. It dropped into the middle of the atrium already swirling with people. The large windows showed a sunny day, despite the muggy rain outside. Carefully, they stepped out of the phone booth, and Draco took a delicious lungful of clean air and stretched his aching joints a little. The others straightened out their clothes before proceeding forward.

The crowd paid them little mind at first, busy getting to wherever they needed to go, until one man gasped loud enough for everyone to hear over the bustle. Chaos ensued. The loud drone of the crowd rose to a fevered pitch, and everyone was staring at them. Suddenly, they were blinded by the flash of cameras, and people shouting all sorts of things at them.

Then, two men strong-armed their way through the throng, one of them a grim dark-haired man in a leather coat, the other a man with flaxen hair pulled back into a ponytail that Draco recognized as one of his father's associates. That meant he was a Death Eater. He gasped aloud, but luckily it was covered by the cacophony of the crowd. He shouldn't be surprised. They knew the Ministry was under the Dark Lord's control, but to see a Death Eater walking around so brazenly...

"Weasley? What's the meaning of this? Why are you escorting Black to the Ministry? One of my men was supposed to pick him up." The blond man didn't look too pleased with them.

Ron remained completely silent, frozen in shock, before a subtle kick from Hermione knocked him into speaking. "I-I was ordered to by the Minister himself. He thought, er, a relation of an old acquaintance might make him come in quietly."

The man looked anything but satisfied. "I am the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It is my job to bring in this dangerous criminal, not some secretary."

"W-Well, it worked, didn't it?" Realizing his gumption was not helping matters, Ron cowed.

The blond man glared at him. "We'll take it from here, _Junior_ Assistant. Runcorn." The other man strode forward, his wand pointed at Sirius. Heavy manacles suddenly appeared on his wrists, chaining them together.

To everyone's surprise, Hermione stepped in between them glaring fiercely with brown eyes that weren't hers. "Lower your wand, at once. My client has come in wandless and of his own volition. There is no need to use such violent tactics on an innocent man."

"He's not innocent yet." The words were said in such a threatening drawl that reminded Draco painfully of Snape. "You'll forgive me, Madam Attorney, if I do not trust the honor of a mass murderer and convicted criminal. I assure you that no harm will befall him if he is compliant." The smug look he sent to Sirius was met with a snarl. That probably didn't help Sirius' case any.

With his head held high, Sirius walked forward, chained and scorned by the crowd. He could very well be walking towards Azkaban, the place he feared the most. And all of this, he did for Harry. When all of this was over, he'd have to apologize for his harsh words before.

Luckily, most of the crowd had moved on to follow the excitement and forgot all about Percy Weasley standing seemingly alone in the atrium. He looked stiff, which he supposed not might be too out of character for the elder Weasley brother, but he really hoped Ron's acting would improve by the time they reached the Minister's Offices where people were more likely to recognize him.

Under his breath, Ron whispered while still looking forward, "Hey, follow me." Then he strode forward awkwardly.

'That goes without saying,' Draco thought, but knew better than to say aloud.

With all of the excitement of Sirius' arrival, no one stopped them as they went past the Visitor's office and strode right into the lift. He supposed no one bothered to check the wands of Ministry officials. A few other people were already in there and even a couple of memos floating in the air above their heads. Draco made sure to squeeze himself as far into the corner as he could to avoid accidentally bumping into anyone.

They travelled down, the lift stopping at each level to exchange passengers. At one point it had been so crowded that Draco had feared that he would be discovered. Luckily, he had the sense to pull Ron in front of him so that he was the only one pushed against an invisible object. He glanced down at Draco often, and he had to resist the urge to tell him to keep his eyes forward. A disembodied voice would be more suspicious.

By the time the elevator chimed, "Level One, Offices of the Minister for Magic," they were the only ones left on the lift. They stepped out onto the polished black tile, the clack of Ron's sleek shoes loud in the echoing hallway. On the walls were posters with the words THE MUGGLE-BORN MENACE and MAGIC IS MIGHT. They were often accompanied by pictures of a fist holding a wand. They gave Draco the chills.

They walked to the end of the hallway where it ended in a long curving corridor. Now they hit their first real snag. Neither of them had ever been to this level before, and so they didn't know where Umbridge's office would be. They could try looking around, but that just increased the chances of someone figuring them out.

Before they could really start to fret, a voice as syrupy as honey from their right said, "Oh, Percy, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the courtroom?"

They both whipped around to see the woman herself walking up to them in a disgustingly pink tweed outfit. Atop her head was pink tulle bow in the shape of a cat that occasionally flicked its tail. She smiled at them, and Draco had to resit the urge to punch her teeth in. This woman had tortured Harry, the both of them.

"I-I was asked to retrieve something from the Minister's office. Er, it pertains to the case."

"Oh. You be sure to do a good job on this case, Percy. Sirius Black is a vicious criminal who has gone free for too long. Sadly, I won't be the one presiding over it. I have to see to the Muggle-Born cases. Necessary work, though." She sighed happily. "I'm glad that at least you came to your senses, Percy, and left that horrible Blood Traitor family of yours."

He could see Ron's fists clench at his sides, and he quickly bunched up the back of his suit to give him a gentle tug in reminder of their purpose.

"Thank you, Pr-Madam Undersecretary. Might I say what a lovely necklace that is?"

"Oh this?" She held up a silver locket that Draco hadn't noticed from his vantage point. It had a green jeweled front with a silver snake in the shape of an S. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that she had the Locket of Slytherin around her neck, but that couldn't be possible. Such an artefact hadn't been seen for centuries. "Yes, it is rather striking, isn't it? I bought it off of some tramp who didn't know its true value. You have a good eye, Percy." Her smile was saccharine. "Well, I must be off. So many thieving Muggle-Borns to root out, you know. Say hello to Pius for me." She waved at him before trotting towards the lift and ascending out of view.

Ron let out a huge breath. "That was bloody terrifying."

"Come on," Draco tugged him towards the right. "She came from this way so her office must be here."

Ron nodded and walked, not looking at Draco again. They passed a couple of doors labeled as different offices of different people. Only once they passed a large atrium room filled with people making pamphlets of no doubt notorious information, did they finally come across a frosted glass door with golden letters that read OFFICE OF THE SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY TO THE MINISTER FOR MAGIC, and beneath that in fine lettering HEAD OF THE MUGGLE-BORN REGISTRATION COMMITTEE. Of course she was.  
  
They looked around, spying no one nearby, Ron tried the doorknob. Locked. Draco took out his wand, pointed it at the door whispering _"Alohamora."_ With a little flash of gold, the door unlocked with an audible click. Huh, you'd think she would have stronger security on her office. Especially after her tenure as a Professor at Hogwarts. He supposed she never learned.

The office inside was as cloyingly pink and kitten filled as her office at Hogwarts had been. The plates of the mewling kittens hung on the walls, looking upon two plump leather chairs and a heavy oak desk. Aside from a set of filing cabinets and a small bureau, there was no other furniture in the room.

"Alright, let's get to looking."

While Ron headed straight for the desk, Draco threw off the Invisibility Cloak and began rifling through the bureau with a frenzied speed. Extra parchment. A copy of _Mudbloods and How to Spot Them_. A collection of gaudy hair bows. Was that a lock of horse hair tied in a black ribbon? Why would she...? Never mind.

He pulled open another drawer and paused when he saw his own face staring back at him from a photo. Curious, he pulled out a stack of thin folders. The one on top was opened to a file all about him. It had his age, his blood status, his best subject at Hogwarts, his bloody zodiac sign even. With an erratic heartbeat, he looked at the section labeled _Location: Unknown._ Well, that was good, right? Then his eyes drifted across _Status: Capture on Sight_. That part was not so good. Still, it looked like the Ministry didn't know much.

With a sigh, he moved his folder to the back to see Ron's file. It had much the same information: unknown location, capture on sight. He shuffled it to the back of the pile and saw Hermione's face smiling at him. Her file was the same as their own, but under her blood status was a scribbled note: _lethal force if necessary_. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

It lodged itself there, when he flipped to the next file and found it covered in red marks with the name HARRY POTTER in bold words on the top. Even less information was available on him, but there were plenty of scribbled in notes for conjecture. _Location: last seen at Hogwarts. Knockturn Alley? Hogsmeade inconclusive._ And then underneath that _Status: Highly dangerous! Possible Dark artefacts. Stun on Sight._ Unlike the others, Harry's file had multiple pages. There were crime scene photos of Pettigrew's Kissed body, with closeups of the bloody writing on the wall. It seemed they had also linked Harry to the attack. He flipped another page, and saw a blurry photo of a cloaked figure stepping out of a darkened doorway. In the background, a dark shadow flitted past, but the image quality was too poor for him to make out exactly what it was. Then the cloaked figure paused, turning their head just enough to reveal startlingly green eyes from behind wire frames. Harry's eyes darted all around, searching for something, before turning back around and pulling his hood down a little lower. Whoever had taken the photo had done a poor job. He couldn't decipher any details from the photo that might alert him to what building Harry had just exited out of.

"Yes! I found it!" Ron's sudden shout startled him so that he nearly dropped all of the files he was holding. He turned around to find his friend holding a shiny brass key with a small paper tag attached to it on a thin string.  
  
In answer, Draco said, "They have files on all of us."

"What?" He showed the files to him, watching the dread play across his face before it was forced behind a stony front. "Well, this just goes to show how little they know, right?"

"That's what I thought too." He put the folders back into the drawer before throwing the Invisibility Cloak back over himself. "Come on, let's go."

"You don't think we should check on all the other files?"

"We're on a time limit, Weasley. Umbridge could come back at any time."

"Right, right."

Carefully, Draco cracked open the door, peering out. "The coast is clear." He pushed open the door all the way, allowing the both of them to exit, before Ron pushed the door closed as silently as he could. With a heavy breath, Ron schooled his features, although he still looked like he had a broomstick shoved up his arse. Or perhaps that was his impersonation of Percy.

They walked at a brisk pace back to the lift unhindered. And by some measure of luck, they didn't bump into Umbridge again. This had been going too well for them so far, and he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. According to Tonks, the Department of Magical Education was down a large curling staircase on this same level. They had yet to see it on their way to Umbridge's office, so by process of elimination, they went down the other fork they had come to at the lift corridor.

They forced themselves to walk at a slow pace, despite nerves egging them forward. It wouldn't do to rush and get lost. A couple of times they had to double back, pretending all the while as if they meant to go in that direction. Fortunately, no one seemed to care much about anything outside of themselves.

When the tiled floor gave way to smooth green marble, they found themselves in front of a large set of double doors underneath a large sign that read DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL EDUCATION. When they pushed inside, they were greeted by a small lobby where a perky witch with hair the color of dirt in tight curls around her head smiled at them. "Hiya, Percy. Whatchya doin' down in these parts? Don'tchya have that big court case to be at?" Her strange accent sounded like nothing Draco had ever heard. Maybe from somewhere in America?

"Oh, yeah, er, I needed to check on something in the Vault, you know, for the case."

"What could you possibly need to know from the Vault?"

"I can't talk about it. You know, the case is still open...you know."

"Oh." She looked very much like she didn't know. "Well, I can't letchya in without the proper paperwork. That's just standard procedure, Percy. Why didchya think you could get in so quickly?"

Ron began to fidget. "I know that. Normally I would have gone through the proper channels, but time is of the essence and the Minister himself sent me. Look, I have the key." He held aloft the brass key.

Her brows furrowed. "Then the Minister himself should've come. You know access to this vault is strictly forbidden. Even I can't go in there. I'm sorry, Percy, but I could lose my job, key or not."

Draco growled under his breath, pulling out Harry's wand and pointing it at the lady. "Oh for the love of-- _Confundo!"_

Her body gave a great shiver before slackening, her eyes dazing dreamily off at the ceiling. She blinked, as if just noticing them. "Oh, er, what was goin' on?"

Ron jumped on the chance. "You were letting me into the Vault."

"Oh, right." She jumped to her feet, walking around the desk a bit unsteadily. "Right this way." She led them down a side corridor, her heels clacking loudly on the marble floors. The corridor ended at a metal door with some kind of complicated mechanism running through it. It seemed rather small and had no handle that he could see. Draco had imagined some giant round door like the vaults at Gringotts. He supposed it made up for it in protective enchantments.

The woman turned to them with a dreamy smile with her hand held out, palm up. "Key, please." When Ron dropped it into her fingers, she put it into a small keyhole in the door and turned it. Instantly, all of the complicated mechanics within the door turned, clanking loudly, and the door swung open completely.

"Wait here," Ron told her before walking inside. "Er, we might be a while."

The woman gave a little bow. "Of course. Take all the time you need."

The Vault of Forbbiden Knowledge reminded Draco of the Restricted Section at Hogwarts. Most of the shelves were covered in dust, and many of the books chained to the shelves. The light in the room was dim, coming only from a magic lantern with no flame. He supposed fire was forbidden, and with good reason, too. Most of these books were probably out of publication. Maybe they were the only copies that existed to this day. Oh, if only he had more time to explore. Maybe he'd sneak back in here someday.

"Alright, I'll take this half and I guess you take that half." Ron gestured vaguely to one side of the room. Luckily, this room was not nearly as large as the Hogwarts Library.

Draco lifted the Cloak to fall over his shoulders so that he could more easily grab books. To anyone else, he must look like a disembodied head with the occasional hand appearing. Still, he was out of sight of the desk lady, and she was Confunded besides. He reached for the nearest book, coughing when it unsettled some dust. He turned it to the front. _Death's Grimoire_. That sounded promising, but upon flipping through it, he found no mentions of any Horcruxes. He placed it back on the shelf and grabbed the next book, _101 Uses of Virgin Blood_ , and then _The Dark Artes For Grades 1-4._ No luck.

In fact, it wasn't until he had reached his twenty-third book that he encountered any information even close to what he needed. _Magick Moste Evile_. What an ancient tome. He was pretty sure his father had a copy of this in his secret library. He flipped through it, eyes scanning the faded lettering quickly. And his heart leapt into his mouth when he saw the word Horcrux almost instantly.

"Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction — Then why even bloody mention it!" He hurled the book, only for the chain attaching it to the shelf to snap taught, and it fell down unsatisfyingly.

"No dice?" Ron asked too calmly from behind a stack of books.

"What do you think? Gah, this is going to take ages!"

"We've just started, Draco. Have patience."

"That's rich, coming from you."

"Well, you're freaking out enough for the both of us."

"There's not even any system of order. How are we supposed to find anything in this mess."

"Well, it is more of a storeroom than a library."

"Oh, sod all this." He whipped out Harry's wand, and with an exaggerated flourish said _"Accio_ Horcrux books!" To both of their surprise, a single book whipped around one of the shelves to smack Draco in the face. Damn, he forgot how overpowered Harry's wand made all of his spells. Rubbing his nose, he picked up the leather bound book from where it had fallen to the floor. _"Secrets of the Darkest Art?"_

Ron moved out from behind his stack of books to peer incredulously. "I can't believe that actually worked."

"Something tells me it wouldn't have worked if I had had my own wand." He cracked it open, skipping the first few pages which were in some ancient language of glyphs that he couldn't decipher. Luckily, the rest of the book was in modern English. "Wait, Ron, I think I've found it." He pointed to the passage and read aloud. "'Many brilliant witches and wizards have sought ways to avoid death. One such magic is the Horcrux, an object in which a person has placed a fragment of their soul. In doing so, if the body is destroyed, the piece of soul in the Horcrux lives on. The inventor of such magic is unknown, but the first reported user of the Horcrux is Herpo the Foul.

"'In order to create a Horcrux, one must commit the penultimate act of evil: murder. Once doing so with the intention of creating a Horcrux, then one need only say the spell, and the soul will be split, entering into the intended object. It is unknown how many times this can be accomplished, although there is no known record of anyone ever creating multiple. The effects of a split soul are also undocumented, as the subject has been banned from study.'"

"And You-Know-Who did this multiple times?" Ron gasped. Draco could agree with his sentiment. His younger self had abstractly imagined slaying his enemies with a single curse, but to actually snuff out the life of a person, to purposefully end their existence, to hurt their family... He didn't think he could ever do such a thing. "And he did this the night he killed Harry's parents."

"Not intentionally. It seems that even as a mistake, Horcruxes can be made."

"Does it say anything about how to remove them?"

Draco continued reading. "'Horcruxes are not invincible, however. If the container is destroyed beyond repair, the soul fragment within will perish as well. Thus, it is inadvisable to use a living being or other object with an expiration date or fragility, although the soul will use whatever means at its disposal to protect itself from harm.

"'However, noted Dark Sorceress Bai Suzhen proposes another theory. She claimed that if the ultimate act of evil is what creates a Horcrux, then its opposite would safely remove the soul fragment from its container, and so if one wished, one could move the soul fragment from container to container. Such is unlikely as this theory is unsubstantiated and Bai Suzhen failed to prove it before her untimely disappearance.'"

They looked up from the book and into each other's eyes. "So the only way to destroy the piece of You-Know-Who's soul inside of Harry is to kill him?"

Draco didn't even want to think about that. "No, there's another way."

"It says that it's only a theory. And what is the opposite of the ultimate act of evil anyway?"

"The ultimate act of love?"

Ron snorted. "And what would that be? True love's kiss?"

"It's worth a try."

A grim look passed over Ron's face. "Dumbledore used to say that Harry's mum's sacrifice was the ultimate act of love, and it protected him from Vo-Volde-m-mort during our first year."

"You want me to jump in front of a Killing Curse for Harry?"

"No, of course not! I'm just saying that's why that path won't work. If that's even the right thing to begin with."

"I'd do it." He was completely serious. "If it would set him free, I'd do it."

Ron's face twisted in pain, and he grabbed Draco's shoulders with a fierce strength that hurt a smidge. "Don't you dare, Draco Malfoy. That wouldn't make Harry happy. He's had enough of sacrifices, alright? And you know, we'd miss you too, y'know." His fingers released his sore shoulders, and he turned to the side bashfully. "It would be such a shame for you to go and kill yourself when you just became decent."

Something warm tickled him low in his belly. "Thanks, Weasley, but I'm spoken for."  
  
"Prat!" Ron huffed. He pulled out a spare piece of parchment from his pocket and magically copied the text. "Come on, let's go back to Grimmauld Place, and hope things went better on Hermione's end."

Draco nodded, but found that he couldn't stop smiling. Simultaneously, they reached for the feathers in their pockets and stroked the shaft.

 

* * *

 

  
Hermione and Sirius were not at Grimmauld Place when they arrived around noon. Nor did they show up after lunch, nor at dinner. Seven o'clock passed, eight o'clock passed, still no sign of them. By nine o'clock, he thought for sure that something must have happened to them. Maybe their Portkey didn't work. Maybe Hermione's ruse was discovered and the both of them were arrested. Maybe while the two of them had been eating a warm meal made by Kreacher, Sirius and Hermione were wasting away in a cell in Azkaban.

At 9:43, someone knocked on the front door. Ron dropped the little centaur figurine he had been playing around with, and Draco nearly yelped. The two of them cautiously crept towards the foyer and stared warily at the front door. It stood there, still and silent. Draco turned to look at Ron. Perhaps they had mistaken the sound--

A louder knock this time. Then a familiar muffled voice said, "Seriously could you guys let me in? I forgot my keys."

Ron nearly tripped over himself rushing for the door. When they threw it open, they saw Sirius with an exasperated look on his face and Hermione, still transfigured to look like Luna Thomas. "What happened? Why didn't you use your Portkey?"

"No need to," Hermione smiled proudly. "Sirius Apparated us here as a free man."

"Whoa, seriously?" Draco nearly shoved Ron out of the way in his surprise.

She held her nose a little up in the air, beaming from ear-to-ear. "I told you guys that I would do it. Can we come in now?"

"Oh, right."

They stepped out of the way, allowing the two to march in victoriously. Hermione headed straight for the kitchen where she put on a kettle. Sirius flopped against the sofa, limbs spread akimbo with a deep sigh. He stretched his neck, rolling it around before he seemed to really notice Ron, still transfigured to look like his brother. "Oh, sorry about the wait." With a wave of his wand, Ron's features melted away to their default appearance. It nearly startled Draco who had just gotten used to looking at Percy. When Hermione returned, Sirius undid the Transfigurations spells on her, and their favorite bushy-haired Muggle-born returned. He much preferred this look.

"You're really good at Transfiguration," he wondered aloud.

Sirius smiled tiredly at him. "One doesn't become an Animagus without learning Transfiguration. Oh, thank you, Hermione. A cuppa is just what I need right now." His nostrils flared, inhaling the herbal scent of the tea and something in his face shifted. "Skullcap and Devil's Claw?"

She nodded with a lazy smile. "Yup, you have a good nose for tea. It's a very soothing blend, which I thought we could use right now."

"So what happened?" Draco couldn't wait for them to relax. "How could you have possibly won the case? The Ministry is under the thumb of You-Know-Who."

Hermione held up a finger. "Ah, but not all of it. They really only had time to replace the people at the top. So, yes, the Minister was biased, but the decision wasn't all up to him. The jury held no such bias against Sirius, and well..." She took a sip of her tea, her smile faltering a bit. "Harry's not going to like this, but I had to play up the orphan card. Sirius is his godfather. If he hadn't been imprisoned wrongfully, Harry could have grown up in a Wizarding household."

"Could have saved him from those evil Muggles." Draco had said it in jest, but the others looked far too serious.

Hermione continued her story. "Anyway, the Minister was trying to speed up the trial, to trip us up, but I think it only worked in our favor. They didn't have enough time to properly bribe the jury." She smirked. "Nor to nitpick every little thing in his past. And really, it was simple once I volunteered to have him questioned under Veritaserum."

"'Mione!"

"Don't give me that look. We had nothing to hide. Well, aside from the unregistered Animagus thing, which they found out about. But don't worry. Once they found him innocent of his murder charges, I convinced them that twelve years of wrongful imprisonment more than makes up for the year of punishment for failure to register. He did have to register though, so the secret's out."

Sirius snorted, loudly slurping his tea. "If it's the price for my freedom, then I'll gladly pay it."

"But what if they asked about Harry?" Ron protested.

"And what exactly would he have told them? We don't know where he is or what his plans are. The only thing we do know is that he is a Horcrux, and they didn't ask about him anyway. It didn't pertain to my client's case." She coolly sipped her tea. "And I had no choice, really. Sirius is the only witness left to Pettigrew's betrayal." Dumbledore's testimony would have really helped. Although, maybe the court wouldn't have believed him anyway.

"I still can't believe you actually won," Draco breathed in awe.

"Neither can I," Sirius said with a grateful smile. "I was right about you. You really are the brightest witch of your age. And might I say, you have a promising future as a lawyer."

Hermione blushed prettily under all of the praise. "Thank you. It was fun, actually, once I stopped being terrified. I think I might actually pursue this, in the future. But enough about me. How did things go on your end?"

Draco shared a look with Ron. "Well, we got into the Vault..."

Her shoulders visibly slumped. "You found nothing?"

"No, we did." Ron pulled out the copied text from his pocket and handed it to her.

Hungrily, her eyes devoured it, soaking in all of the information before handing it over to Sirius for perusal. Any good mood she had from winning the case vanished. "There's got to be a way. This Bai Suzhen had a working theory."

Ron instantly interjected. "No! Absolutely no one is sacrificing themselves. No one else is dying."

"Maybe it's not that kind of sacrifice. Maybe it's not a sacrifice at all. We're certainly not going to kill Harry."

"Of course not. But I don't want anyone jumping in front of any curses either. We don't even know if this theory will work. The author didn't sound like he put much stock in it at all."

Sirius said, "Well, the author sounds like a bit of an arse."

"Maybe..." Draco hesitated, curling his finger around his chin in thought. "Maybe we're going about this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

He looked up at each of them. "Well, Harry's been a horcrux this whole time, right? He wasn't going around murdering people before, so if we can get the original Harry back, then we can have time to calmly figure out what to do with the piece of Dark Lord soul stuck in him. This is just another personality for us to get through, just like all of the others."

"The others weren't actively trying to kill us," Ron deadpanned.

"Ok," Hermione said softly. "Then how do we get rid of this personality? It's Voldemort himself."

"This isn't like a full possession. Harry's still in there, and I believe he's still fighting for control. Think about it. You dueled him, Hermione. Do you really think Lord Volde-m-mort would have really let you live?"

"Not for lack of trying," she said in good humor.

"He told you that he had hidden me. He knows you have the Marauder's Map. If he really wanted me to have been lost forever, he wouldn't have boasted to you about it. I think sometimes, our Harry gains a little bit of control, and he's trying to help us. Maybe even Pettigrew was his way of trying to help Sirius."

"I don't know, Draco. This all seems like wishful thinking."

Ron shook his head. "He does have a bit of a point, Hermione. We would have been dead by now if Harry were truly gone."

"So then what should we do?" Sirius asked the burning question aloud.

"First, we have to find Harry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the name Bai Suzhen from The Legend of the White Snake ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legend_of_the_White_Snake ) from Chinese folklore. That sounds to me like an ancient sorceress.


	10. Riddle House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3rd Mov. Riku - Scherzo e Intermezzo - KH Piano Collections  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vpzq9tLFO4

"So, Sirius, what's life like as a free man?" Draco smirked from around his pumpkin juice that morning.

Sirius didn't smile back at him from across the table. Their morning post had been larger than usual, in that there was any at all. He had received many congratulation letters from different Order members. The Weasley parents had even Fire-Called him this morning, but that had also been to inform them all of Bill's marriage. Ron had been upset that he couldn't attend, but when Mrs. Weasley informed them that Snatchers had shown up searching for them, he looked less cross.

Their host, on the other hand, would have had carte blanche to attend, and had instead chosen to stay indoors. He thought for sure that once the man had gained his freedom that they would never see him again, and yet he hadn't stepped a foot outside. Currently, he flipped open a cream colored envelope, his grey eyes scanning it. "I have been summoned to the Ministry for questioning."

Ron dropped his fork into his eggs. "What for? They said you were innocent. It's not even been a full day yet."

"I think this might be the reason." Hermione spread out the newspaper she had been reading across the table so that they could all see the gruesome photo of Dolores Umbridge crumpled against the wall in much the same way Pettigrew had been. This time, she had an entire sentence written in blood on the wall above her head: I MUST NOT TELL LIES. So many times he had wished death upon this vile woman, but to see her corpse, or well, soulless body... No, maybe it was knowing who must be the real perpetrator.

"Bloody hell! We just saw her yesterday!"

"They've got nothing on you," Hermione said emphatically. "You were in court all day. You have an entire jury of witnesses!"

"That doesn't account for after."

"And why would you kill her on the day you just finally gained your freedom?"

"I'm a mass murdering lunatic, Hermione. Why do we do anything?"

She crossed her arms across her chest. "This is ridiculous. You'll just go in for this senseless questioning, and they'll cross you off the suspect list. You have nothing to hide."

"Except the fact that two of my cohorts were breaking into Umbrudge's office at the time."

Draco pulled the collar of his shirt out, his neck suddenly feeling too hot. "The timing is unfortunate..."

"Unfortunate!" Ron nearly shouted. "Bloody hell, I'm not going to Azkaban for this."

Hermione shook her head. "You'll be fine, Ron. If they ask about the break-in, Sirius will just lie. And if they ask him to take Veritaserum, it is within his legal rights to refuse. Innocent until proven guilty, after all."

Sirius' lower lip protruded in a pout. "Yeah, because that worked out so well for me last time..."

Hermione sighed, rubbing her temple. "They've got nothing on you, Sirius. You'll be fine. This is probably just a formality. And besides, the cause of...well, not-death is a Dementor's Kiss. They'll just think this is the work of a rogue Dementor."

"That writes messages on the wall in blood."

She hesitated. "Ok, that bit is obviously suspicious, but you still didn't do it. And unless they have hard evidence or you confess, they can't arrest you. If you really want, I'll go with you as your lawyer again."

The man sighed, rubbing his face. "No, no, I'm a grown man, for Merlin's sake. I can handle this on my own. You kids just stay put, alright? I may be free to walk the streets now, but you three are still wanted by the Ministry, remember?"

All three of them visibly deflated. Did that mean it was their responsibility to feed the giant hippogriff now?

 

* * *

 

  
Lunch rolled by, and still Sirius had yet to return. Hermione reassured them that this didn't mean anything bad. He probably was waiting in a lobby, reading an old copy of the _Daily Prophet._ Still, Draco couldn't help but wonder what they would do if Sirius were to be arrested. Would they even know? It wasn't exactly like they were helpless, or even really needed the man with them, but it would be the first time Draco would have to make decisions without adult supervision. Real decisions, the kind with dire consequences. He nervously swallowed a forkful of the roast Kreacher had so kindly made for them at his request and nearly choked on it when something tapped on the kitchen window.

Hermione dropped her fork in a loud clatter, before walking to the window to see what the fuss was. With a noise of curiosity, she opened the window to allow a brown owl with the crest of Hogwarts on its leather harness to swoop in. It dropped a small package wrapped in brown paper and string on their table, before waiting for its treat with a hungry look. Ron pushed over his plate of half-eaten roast, eyes still on the package. "What's that?"

Draco took the liberty of opening the parcel, carefully untying the string and unfolding the paper to reveal an emerald and silver locket, with an emblem of a snake in the shape of an S. "Wait a minute, isn't this Umbridge's locket?"

"What?" Hermione leaned forward to get a better look.

"At the Ministry," Ron explained, "we bumped into Umbridge and she was wearing this. Hold on..." He leapt out of his chair and out of the kitchen, returning moments later with a newspaper in hand. He quickly flattened it out on the table next to the locket. The image of Umbridge's soulless body peered up at them. "Why didn't I notice it before? She doesn't have her locket in the picture, see?" He pointed, and Draco let his eyes follow hesitantly. He didn't really fancy looking at her empty shell too closely, but he found that Ron was indeed right. The locket, which had once been displayed proudly around her neck, was now missing.

"You don't think...this was hers?" He held the locket up and away from him, as if it were poisonous suddenly. Oh god, had this been on her when she was Kissed?  
  
They all looked visibly pale. Hermione then said in a cautious voice, "...You don't think Harry took this from her and then sent it to us, do you?"

"But the owl came from Hogwarts," Draco pointed out. "If Harry's wanted by the Death Eaters, he wouldn't go to the school where they are all swarming about."

"That's true," she admitted.

"Maybe it was used as a diversion? To throw off the source?"

"But he would still have to sneak into Hogwarts to get the owl in the first place."

Ron deflated. "Oh, right."  
  
But still, why would anyone, let alone Harry, send them this locket? Was it some sort of taunt?

"There's a note." He looked up to see Hermione pulling a small slip of paper that he had missed out of the packaging, as distracted by the locket as he was.

"Does it say who sent it?" Ron asked eagerly.

She shook her head. "No, it's just a newspaper clipping. Here, see?" She held the paper up for them to both see, and sure enough, it was a small clipping of a single newspaper article from a Muggle newspaper if the eerily still image was any indication. It wasn't even the entire article, just the headline and the first few sentences.

 

 

 

> **MURDER AT RIDDLE HOUSE**  
>  Tragedy has befallen the small village of Little Hangleton, when authorities received a distress call to  
>  the 'manor up on the hill' as locals like to call it. The entire family, including Thomas and Mary Riddle and  
>  their only son Tom were murdered in their house at the dinner table. When Officer Peabody arrived on

 

 

"Riddle? Why does that name sound familiar?" Ron scrunched his face in that way when he thought too hard.

Hermione gasped, her eyes widening comically, and Draco was left looking back and forth between the two of them. "What? What's so special about Riddle?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle is Lord Voldemort's real name. Lord Voldemort is just an anagram of his name."

"How the hell do you two know this?" No one in his father's circle knew the Dark Lord's real name. Hell, he had thought Voldemort was his real name until now.

"Harry found out in our second year when-- The diary!" She suddenly shot to her feet, nearly knocking her chair over in the process. Did she have to be so dramatic with her sudden leaps in logic? "The diary is a Horcrux! Oh, how could I not have realized it sooner?"

This was getting ridiculous. "Hello? Can we fill in the Slytherin here? What diary?"

"Tom Riddle's diary. Remember in Second Year when the Heir of Slytherin was petrifying people? It was the work of Tom Riddle himself, a memory left inside of his personal diary from when he was a Hogwarts student. At the time, we had no idea what a Horcrux was, but it makes a lot more sense now."

"So that was an actual piece of V-Voldemort--" he hated how much that name made him flinch "--that Harry fought?"

"Merlin's beard," Ron said breathlessly.

"Seconded," Hermione added.

They were interrupted by the sound of the front door. The tense conversation made them all a bit jumpy at the sudden noise, and even though Draco knew that only Order members could get into Grimmauld Place, he still felt himself reaching for Harry's wand.

Sure enough, Sirius strode into the kitchen with a smile and relaxed shoulders. So his interrogation must have gone well. "Woah, what's with the serious faces? What did I miss?"

Hermione handed him the locket and the newspaper clipping, explaining everything to him. His easy manner fell to be replaced by a grim frown. "Who sent this?"

They all shrugged. "No clue. There was no note, but it was sent by a Hogwarts owl. It's not even addressed to anyone, really."

"No, this was clearly addressed to you three, or at least to the boys. They saw Umbridge's locket, but how did anyone know that you two knew is what worries me. How did this person know to send it here?"

"Maybe it was Tonks?" Ron suggested. "She knows we're here, and that we snuck into Umbridge's office."

"Maybe." Sirius didn't look convinced, but he dropped the matter anyway. Instead, he examined the locket, turning it every which way, before noticing the silver clasp on the side and popping it open. To all of their surprise, a tiny folded note fell out. When Sirius picked it up, he read it aloud. "To the Dark Lord." They all exchanged heavy looks, before he continued. "I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more. R.." He hesitated, his face draining of color. "R.A.B."

"So the locket is a Horcrux?" Ron said. "Or, well, the real one?"

"That's pretty brave of this R.A.B. to steal one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Maybe if we find them, they can tell us how they destroyed this one."

"That won't be possible," Sirius said, clutching the note in his hand as if he wished to crush it out of existence. "R.A.B. stands for Regulus Arcturus Black, my younger brother. He was murdered nearly seventeen years ago." At their looks of astonishment, he clarified, "He had joined the Death Eaters, my brother. But then once he saw what they really did behind closed doors, he tried to back out. You don't just resign from being a Death Eater. It's a life sentence."

"Oh, Sirius," Hermione spoke gently.

He just waved away her concern. "I have already made my peace with it. I do find it a bit heartening to learn that he was brave enough to actually try to undermine Voldemort before his passing."

"Maybe he managed to actually destroy the real locket?" Ron added hopefully.

"I know of one way to find out." Sirius then aimed his words up into the ceiling with a shout. "Kreacher!"

Obediently, the house-elf popped into existence just in front of them on top of the kitchen table, knocking over a glass of water. With how much Kreacher seemed to hate his owner, Draco didn't doubt this was done on purpose, as a tiny act of rebellion. "What does the traitorous master ask of Kreacher?"

Sirius didn't bother to hide his snarl, but still, he spoke in an even tone as he held up the locket. "Do you recognize this? Regulus had one just like it, yes?"

The elf didn't answer immediately, his beady little eyes watching them all with calculation before carefully answering, "Kreacher is not allowed to say." He wrung his little bony hands.

"Well, I'm allowing it. Tell me what you know, Kreacher."

"Master Regulus forbid it. He told Kreacher, in the cave by the sea, to keep it secret, to tell no one."

"Yeah, well, he's dead."

Draco could see that Sirius was getting frustrated, and experience told him that this would only lead to a loud row, so he stepped in between them. "We found this note written by Regulus in this locket. We know it's a fake, and we know that your master was trying to destroy them. We only want to finish what he started."

The house-elf considered him for a beat, before answering, "Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to destroy it, but nothing Kreacher did would work."

Behind him, he knew that Sirius was probably pouting that his own house-elf listened to a sixteen year old over him. "Where is the locket now, Kreacher?"

Now Kreacher was the one snarling. "Nasty thief, comes in the night when Kreacher is sleeping, takes the silver, takes Mistress's old jewels."

"Who took them?" Sirius asked, and to Draco's surprise, Kreacher actually answered.

"Mundungus Fletcher."

The name meant nothing to him, but Sirius let out a hiss. "That no-good niffler."

"Sirius, you know who that is?" Ron asked.

"He used to be a member of the original Order, but now I see he has returned to his scummy ways. I think I might be able to find him." He paused, as if just now noticing that the three of them were there. "The kind of circles he operates in are no places for kids. I think you three should stay here while I go find him and this locket."

"What?" Ron and Draco protested at the same time that Hermione said, "Okay. We'll go investigate Riddle House, then."

Sirius shook his head. "That's an even worse idea. It's too dangerous for students."

"I'm sure that after all these years, any danger has passed. It's in a Muggle village, so I doubt there's any Dark wizards milling about. Besides, Voldemort hardly expects anyone to know his true origins and wouldn't want to draw attention to the house by putting any magical traps on it, if there's even a reason for him to booby trap it in the first place. And I wasn't asking for permission." Draco could hardly believe these words were coming out of Hermione Granger's mouth.

But she did bring up some good points. "It'll be faster this way. Whoever sent these clues to us obviously wants us to find Voldemort's Horcruxes, and if we can study those, then maybe we can find a way to save Harry. We need to find him before the Death Eaters."

Ron stepped forward. "We came here to help Harry, not to hide away to let the adults take care of it. We're his friends."

Sirius let out a huge breath, frowning before hitting them with a sad smile. "I can't believe I'm the one trying to convince someone out of something dangerous. How low I've sunk. Fine, fine, but stick together, and the minute it gets dangerous, use your Portkeys, alright?"

"We promise."

 

* * *

 

Little Hangleton was a simple village, with only the one schoolhouse and pub that served everybody. The people all looked at them strangely, even though they had taken care to wear Muggle clothing. Draco wondered if they could sense their difference, or if such a small village was simply wary of strangers.

The place was settled in a circle of large hills, the grass brown and flaxen with the drought that year, and the people looked just as dry and shriveled. They certainly didn't look welcoming as Hermione stepped up to an old man in a dirty apron sweeping the front of his tiny shop with what looked to be a bundle of twigs tied together. Ron looked just as distressed as him, moving to stop her from talking to the hostile looking Muggle, but too late.

"Excuse me, sir, could you direct us to Riddle House?" She asked politely and unafraid. Gryffindors were truly frightening.

"What you lot want to go up there for?" the old man eyed them with obvious distrust. "You kids tryin' to break into that house to see if it's haunted? Well, let me save you the trouble. That house is cursed, and you should stay far away."

"Thank you," she bowed her head slightly, completely unfazed by the old man's ominous warnings.

"Seriously, don't go up there. If you do, I'll report you for trespassing." He held his broom a bit more firmly in his hand, and Draco feared he just might start using it as a weapon.

Hermione, however, just waved at him with a polite smile before walking off. The boys followed after her.

"'Mione," Ron hissed. "What are we going to do when the Muggle authorities show up to kick us out?"

"Oh, don't worry, Ron. I plan to put up several Anti-Muggle Charms before we go in. They'll just think some stupid teenagers tried to break into a haunted house for kicks, got scared and then left."

The Riddle House sat on top of the largest hill surrounding the village. The tall stack of a house was covered in ivy and clearly out of use. Once they had crested the top of the hill, they could see the infamous graveyard that Harry had been taken to two years ago. Harry didn't like to talk much about that night, but Draco morbidly wondered if they'd find any evidence of what had happened there.

"It doesn't look like the caretaker is in," Hermione noted, looking around. It certainly looked as if no one had disturbed this house in decades.

"Well, go on then," Draco gestured to the wooden double doors in front of them, "open it."

Ron visibly shivered. "I'm not touching that door. What if this is the place V-Voldemort grew up in. I bet he left all sorts of traps and curses here."

"Oh, really, you two," Hermione gave an exasperated sigh before boldly stepping forward and pushing open the door. It creaked ominously. They all held their breath, but after a beat, nothing happened.

The inside was as dark as night and as dusty as time, if the sunlight filtering in showed. The air was practically glittering with dust motes, and Draco found himself already coughing. Ron, probably feeling like a chicken about having a girl open the door for him, bravely lit up the tip of his wand and stepped inside.

The foyer had long since been emptied of any furniture or decoration, but Draco could still see spots on the walls where large paintings must have once hung. A heavy aura weighed in the air, like the feeling just before a storm. Their steps echoed loudly on the tiled floor, making him wince. "So, uh, what should we be looking for, exactly?"

"I don't know. Anything."

"I doubt this will just lead us right to Harry," Ron said. "Should we split up to search?"

Draco peered nervously into the shadows in the darkness. "That sounds like a terrible idea."

Hermione nodded her head. "We don't know what we'll find, so we should stick together."

They moved through the house in a single group, each of their wands pointing in a different direction. They decided to work their way up, checking all of the rooms on the ground floor first before heading for the stairs. Each room was as barren as the first, revealing only dust. He wondered if Voldemort, or Tom Riddle as he had been born, truly lived in this house in this small village. He found it difficult to imagine the Dark Lord as a child. He always just assumed he had been born from pure Dark Magic or something. He didn't really like to dwell on him much.

"The article said the entire family had been murdered here," Draco wondered aloud. "Do you think Voldemort did it?"

"That seems like the least of his sins," Hermione snorted.

"You don't think he might have made a Horcrux when he did?" Ron said, following Draco's train of thought.

"I wouldn't be surprised. Who knows how many he might have made."

"Did you see that?" Ron suddenly jumped, flicking his wand at a doorway to his right. "Something just moved, I swear."

Alarmed, they pointed their wands in the same direction, carefully stepping into the open room. The thick layer of dust on the wooden floor muffled their steps, but their breaths seemed loud enough to alert any intruder regardless. Still, they reached the end of the empty room, their wands illuminating only more dust.

"Maybe it was a rat," Hermione suggested in a trembling voice.

"Do you not feel the Dark magic in this place?" Draco said. "Nothing would live here."

Now distinctly more on edge, they moved on to the first floor. The corridors up here were much narrower than downstairs, and they walked shoulder to shoulder. The wooden floor creaked louder, and Draco couldn't shake off the feeling that they were being watched. He shivered, rubbing his arms briefly. "Does it feel cold in here to you guys?"

"Well, the windows are boarded up," Hermione offered, but her breath was coming out in white puffs. And the darkness seemed like a living thing now, pressing closer in on them. His hair stood on end, the feeling of electricity in the air around them.

"Look," Ron pointed his wand at the wall where the peeling wallpaper was slowly growing branches of frost in shimmering patterns.

A feeling of utter despair creeped up from his belly and into his heart, a feeling that he remembered experiencing only once before, on the Hogwarts Express. He could see the ceiling of his room at Grimmauld Place in his mind's eye. Suddenly the entire corridor lit up in bright blue flames to reveal a Dementor coming towards them with its toothless mouth gaping open. Draco let out a shriek of terror, throwing his hands up in front of him, whole lot of good that would do him.

Luckily, Ron had the good sense to shout _"Expecto Patronum,"_ and a silvery jack russel terrier bounded forth, barking. The Dementor shied away, flying back and behind a figure in a dark cloak. The Patronus stopped in front of the figure, illuminating him long enough to reveal dark green eyes from behind shining spectacles.

"Harry!" The Patronus dissipated, but the blue flames suddenly appearing were enough light to reveal that none other than Harry Potter stood in front of the Dementor, wearing a confidant smile and Slytherin's locket around his neck. In his hands he held that tiara he had seen the last time they met at the Black Lake, and a gold ring with a black stone now adorned Harry's finger.

"I'm surprised you three managed to track me here," Harry spoke in a voice that was all wrong, not at all like him. It gave Draco the chills, but that easily could have been the Dementor. "Draco, I'm pleased to see you found your way out of that lake. I had looked forward to updating your punishment in a few weeks."

"What are you doing with that Dementor?" Strangely, his wand arm was completely steady.

"Oh this?" Harry looked up at the creature that towered over him, affectionately petting it's hooded face. "It recognizes me as one of its own. We have a common goal, you see."

"And that is?" Hermione said carefully.

The human Horcrux smiled at them with too many teeth. "You're a smart girl. What do Dementors _do?"_

"But Harry, mate, you couldn't--"

Suddenly, the calm amused demeanor was gone, replaced with snarling rage. "Harry Potter is dead! There is only Lord Voldemort. And those beneath him."

"No," Draco said with more confidence than he felt. "I don't believe that. I know Harry is still alive in there somewhere, and I'll make you suffer for what you did to him."

"Suffer?" He laughed. "You know nothing of suffering, boy. But you will. Soon, you all will know." He scowled. "There is no such thing as Love, and now, there's no such thing as Harry." His cold gaze fixed on Draco. "I believe you have something of mine. Let's see how it feels to be killed by your own wand." He raised the hawthorn wand in his hand, his mouth open to no doubt mutter the Killing Curse, but Hermione beat him to the punch.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_ His wand flew out of the Horcrux's hand, clattering to the floor several steps away.

Harry looked downright murderous. "Kill them!"

The Dementor flew forward, but Hermione was prepared again with a silvery shield that knocked the Dementor back. It was enough time for the the Horcrux to retrieve his wand and start hurling curses at them. Even with numbers on their side, they found themselves pushed back. Ron kept up his Patronus to push back the Dementor while Harry and Hermione were kept on their toes dueling the evil Harry who was shouting incantations he'd never even heard before, but knew it would be bad news if he were hit.

Draco had a morbid flashback to his practice duels with Harry back in the D.A., and had never been more grateful for the training, otherwise he knew he would have already been dead by now. Ironic that Harry had taught him how to fight against himself.

 _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ Hermione shouted, but the curse was easily knocked out of the way wordlessly by their enemy. Draco didn't know how he deflected spells like that without erecting a shield.

Harry countered with _"Sectumsempra,"_ a spell Draco had never heard of before. Luckily, he threw his Shield Charm up in time to block it. He did, however, manage to hit him with a Knock-back Jinx that sent him flying into Ron, which disrupted his Patronus. Now, the Dementor was free to attack, and two of them were sitting on their arses.

The Dementor made a beeline for him, and it passed over him, but for a moment, they were face-to-face, and he heard a whooshing sound and let out a yell as it sucked some of his happiness from him. He felt the press of water on his body, and for a terrifying moment, he feared that he was back at the bottom of the lake.

Someone shouting his name brought him back to reality, and he clambered to his feet shakily. He still had his wand, thank Merlin, so they hadn't lost the fight yet. Ron had set up a Shield Charm in front of Hermione who was on the ground puking blood. That was worrisome, but he couldn't spare much thought for her when a murderous Harry was heading his way.

He didn't think, he just pointed his wand and shouted, _"Sectumsempra!"_

Harry stumbled back as if he had been hit, and a red line blossomed on his body from his left shoulder to his right hip, as if a large sword had sliced him open. His hand clutched at his chest like it could hold the blood in.

"Oh Merlin, Harry," Draco stumbled forward, but Ron's hand on his arm stopped him. The Horcrux was still in control and still dangerous.

Harry grit his teeth, glaring at them, and the Dementor retreated back to him, encircling the boy in a swirl of tattered black fabric. "You'll pay, Draco Malfoy. You'll all pay for what you've done to me." And then with a turn of his body and a loud clapping noise, he Apparated away, taking the blue flames with him.

Ron instantly dropped his shield and knelt beside Hermione who was still vomiting blood. "Oh, Merlin, Hermione, what do I do? What do I do?"

Draco stumbled forward, hastily moving his wand in the shape of a shield. _"Finite Incantatem."_ Luckily, it worked, and Hermione sat up, wiping blood from her mouth.

Ron ran his hands all over her to check for any other injuries, and Draco feared he just might start crying. "Oh Hermione, I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Ron." Her voice sounded hoarse. "I'll be fine after some rest."

"This was such a waste," Ron continued to fret. "And you almost died."

"No, it wasn't." Hermione dug in her beaded purse for a small phial that she unstoppered and emptied into her mouth. "We learned a lot of things." Her voice sounded phenomenally better. "We know that Harry has indeed been behind the Dementor attacks. We know that he's hunting Horcruxes and already has at least three, not including himself. And we know what he's going after next."

"We do?" Draco said.

"Isn't it obvious? The next Horcrux is Hufflepuff's cup."


	11. Malfoy Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unhappy Party - Sympathy for Lady Vengeance  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5JOWtiCWiQ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's my day off, so I'm giving you guys two chapters today! Woohoo!

They reconvened with Sirius over tea. Their outing had proven much more fruitful than Sirius', whose trail lead him back to Umbridge. In the end, it didn't matter because they saw Harry with the real locket of Slytherin.

"So you think Harry is collecting Horcruxes?" Sirius spoke after they had finished their debriefing. "To what end?"

Draco shrugged. "Maybe Voldemort wants to put himself back together."

Hermione asked, "But why? The whole purpose of the Horcruxes was to have extra lives."

"Maybe they make Voldemort weaker?" Ron suggested. "Like maybe this is only a fraction of his true power?" And wasn't that a scary thought.

Sirius pondered over his teacup. "So the Horcrux within Harry is gathering up the other Horcruxes to fuse them back together to...become even more powerful than the current Voldemort? To merge them all together?"

"Who's to say? The important fact is that if we find the Horcruxes, we find Harry."

"So where do we start?" Ron asked. "Hermione, you said the next Horcrux is Hufflepuff's Cup."

"Or the sword of Godric Gryffindor, although Harry used the sword back in his second year to fight the basilisk, and surely if it was another Horcrux, it wouldn have helped the diary? Or at least not worked for Harry."

"Perhaps V-Voldemort skipped Gryffindor as a proud Slytherin," Draco pointed out. It's what he would have done.

"Either way," Hermione interceded, "our best bet is to search for Hufflepuff's Cup."

"But such artifacts are legend," Sirius said. "No one's known for sure if they truly existed, let alone where they would be."

"But we don't have to find them," Hermione argued excitedly. "Voldemort already did that for us. We just have to figure out where he hid them."

"And how are we supposed to do that, exactly?" Draco didn't propose to understand that madman's mind.

"Well, let's look at where he's hidden the others so far. Draco, you said that Harry had been snooping around the Room of Requirement. That sounds like an excellent place to hide Ravenclaw's Diadem."

He nodded. He had seen Harry holding the tiara at the lake on that fateful day, so it made sense that he had found it at Hogwarts.

Sirius' eyes lit up. "Well, it's unlikely that he would put all his Occamy eggs in one basket, so we can cross Hogwarts off of our list."

Hermione nodded with a smile. "And Kreacher said that Slytherin's Locket had been in a cave by the sea."

"So no more caves then?" Ron asked.

"Not necessarily. Just not that cave. And Harry already found that ring in Little Hangleton. I bet it's another Horcrux."

"So Voldemort's hometown is off the list."

"And Lucius Malfoy, his right hand man, had the diary." All eyes turned on him, and his stomach twisted.

He held his hands up. "I don't know anything about any Horcruxes."

Ron put his elbows on his knees, hunching over in a defeated slump. "So that just leaves everywhere else in the world?"

"Not necessarily." She held up her finger in that teacher way she did. "He would have wanted to keep them far apart, but close enough, just in case he ever needed to collect them again."

"So they're probably still in the country?" Ron guessed.

"I think so."

"Well, that does narrow it down," Sirius frowned. "But it will still be difficult to scour the entire country for objects he doesn't want found."

At this, Hermione didn't have an answer. "I'll try to do some research on scrying spells."

Ron groaned dramatically at the notion of more book reading. Draco for once agreed with him. This whole quest had involved a lot more study than he would have thought. Was this how all of the Golden Trio's adventures went?

 

* * *

 

  
Thanks to their Wanted status, the three of them were limited to sifting through the Black library. Sirius on the other hand, chose to go visit the bookstores on Diagon Alley (and probably on Knockturn Alley too). Though why he had chosen to do so in disguise was beyond Draco's comprehension. He would think that the man would want to enjoy his newfound freedom, and yet he still seemed so afraid of being public.

So once again, he found himself lounging in one of the worn dark blue armchairs of the Black library. Hermione sat at the small table with two neatly piled stacks next to her, while Ron sprawled out on the floor surrounded haphazardly by various tomes that didn't match subjects at all. At this point, Draco suspected that Ron was just hoping he would happen upon the answer.

Looking at Ron made him wonder, though... "Hey Weasley, do you think you could use your Patronus to sniff something out. It is a dog."

"It's not a real dog, Malfoy," Ron rolled his eyes.

"I know that, you twit. I'm just saying maybe it could help us search for Horcruxes."

Hermione, ever the insufferable know-it-all, couldn't resist turning around to lecture them. "Patronuses are merely a physical manifestation of your inner self, your soul. They only have the appearance of certain creatures. That's why they can only ever be a singular creature, and only ever its actual size. They're actually made up of a mixture of Light magic and physical memory."

"'Physical memory?'" Ron scoffed. "Isn't that a bit of an oxymoron?"

"Ooh, that's a big word for your vocabulary."

"Oh, shut it, you ferret."

Hermione ignored their squabbling to continue. "You know those phials Dumbledore keeps next to his pensieve in his office?" Draco didn't, actually, but Ron nodded. "Those hold the physical memories, or well, a magical copy of them, anyhow. Patronuses are manifestations of your happiest memories."

He remembered Harry explaining something along these lines during the D.A. meetings, though with a lot less detail. "Then could a Patronus, if it's physical, affect something other than Dementors? For instance, could Ron's Patronus bite someone? Or pee on a tree?" He smiled teasingly at Ron.

She shook her head. "I say physical, but they are not solid. You've seen them pass through walls and such. I've read a theory, though, that if a witch or wizard were powerful, if they had a truly and strongly happy memory, that the Patronus could become solid enough to affect the world around it, but no one has ever accomplished such a feat."

"Oh well," Draco shrugged as if he were not truly disappointed. "What do you think about using Probity Probes?"

"I was thinking something more like a Foe-Glass," Hermione countered. "A Horcrux is a living thing, after all."

"Those both require close proximity," Ron said. "If there were some way we could narrow it down to a specific location..."

He mused over the locations they knew about so far. What connected them? "His hometown, his school, a cave..." They knew next to nothing about the cave the locket had once been in because Kreacher knew next to nothing, but perhaps it had some sort of significance to the Dark Lord?

He straightened his posture in his chair. Maybe that was the common theme: these locations all held some significance to Lord Voldemort. His hometown, the school he went to. "His most trusted servant."

The other two looked over to him at his words, as if sensing that he had an idea.

Even if Draco didn't like it. "I think we've been going about this the wrong way. Instead of trying to find the Horcruxes by ourselves, we should be asking those who would know."

Ron sat up too, knocking a book on Astrology over on his way. "You aren't seriously suggesting that we ask You-Know-Who himself."

"No, but he trusted one of his loyal servants with guarding one once. Who's to say he won't do so again?"

"So we ask your father?"

Draco swallowed thickly. "Not so much ask as spy. He may not have another himself, but he might have more information about it than we would."

"That's actually not a bad idea." Despite how much he hated himself for it, Draco preened inwardly at Ron's compliment.

When they told Sirius about it, he nodded along, his dark eyes glinting with speculation. "That is a good plan. However, the Order has been trying to spy on Lucius Malfoy for years. We have eyes on him in public, but not in the privacy of his home. It's protected under strong enchantments."

"I know," Draco said. "I used to live there. I can get you inside."

Sirius froze. "Absolutely not. In no capacity should you children be anywhere near that place. This isn't like the Riddle House. Malfoy Manor is crawling with Death Eaters now."

He drew up short, surprised at the man's vehemence. "But I'm your best bet at getting inside. I need to be on this mission."

"'Mission?' You're not some kind of Auror, and you're not a member of the Order."

His blood boiled. He couldn't believe reckless Sirius Black of all people was cautioning him. Dammit, he wouldn't let anything jeopardize his chance at finding Harry. "And why not? You wanted Harry to join before."

"Yeah, and look where that got him!" His words echoed in the sudden silence, bouncing around Draco's empty chest. Then, much softer, Sirius continued, "I can't lose anyone else. I just...can't." His eyes riveted to Draco's, holding him in place. "You of all people should know that."

And he did. Draco had been with Sirius during every step of his grief, trapped in this dismal house with him. Draco had lost his everything, but Sirius had lost his everything and a godson. They were too similar. It was probably what had driven him insane all summer.

"Just...please let the Order members take care of this."

Draco hung his head in defeat, and he felt feminine hands gently clasp his shoulders in a gross show of sentimentality. "We will, Sirius. There's still more research that can be done. We can still do our part."

The man's shoulders visibly relaxed, and the three of them left to continue research he had no plans on doing. Even for the sake of Sirius' peace of mind, he would not sacrifice a chance to save Harry.

When they reached the privacy of the library, he turned around to fix his two friends with a hard stare. "I'm going to the manor. I'd like you two to come with me." After all, he knew he couldn't do this alone, and the three of them had accomplished a lot together.

He had expected a lecture on the dangers they would face, a reprimand for disobeying a direct order from an adult, a demand to leave these matters to his trained and experienced betters. He hadn't expected Ron to nod and say, "When do we leave?"

Of course, he had forgotten exactly who he was talking to. "Tonight."

 

* * *

 

  
They flew to Wiltshire on the brooms they had escaped Hogwarts on under the Disillusionment Charm as performed by Hermione. The wards forced them to dismount further down the lane so that they had to walk up the gravel driveway lined by hedges. They hid their brooms in the foliage and donned Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Even with the Disillusionment Charm, they couldn't take any chances.

The walk up the driveway was arduously slow, since they had to huddle together to stay under the fabric, and even then he just knew that their feet kept peeking out. He considered just braving it without the cloak as they had yet to encounter a single soul on their way, but he knew that the end of the driveway was the Apparition point, and any number of Death Eaters could appear there at any moment.

When they finally reached the imposing wrought-iron gate, they allowed themselves a minute to stretch their sore backs. Through the iron bars, he saw the impressive Malfoy garden, and even heard the shrill cry of his mother's prized albino peacocks, though he could not see them. This was the moment of truth.

"Keep hold of me," he whispered to the others. If the wards still accepted him, then the others would be accepted too as his guests. That is if his parents hadn't disowned him yet. After checking around carefully, he stuck his hand out from under the cloak and pressed it against the cold iron. For a moment, nothing happened, and then his hand dissolved into black smoke and he passed through the gate as if it weren't even there.

When he turned around, he found that the other two were still with him under the cloak, still clutching onto his arm. Perfect. So that was the easy part down. Now to do some actual reconnaissance.

The gardens were as magnificent and sprawling as he remembered. The large fountain with the galloping centaurs that he used to play in, the small hedge maze that his mother had spent hours perfecting, the gazebo so covered in flowering vines that it almost looked as if it had grown out of the ground. With a heavy heart, Draco forced himself to look away and focus on not tripping over Ron's big feet.

The sound of a single laugh like a bark caused them all to freeze in place. The source of the noise appeared from behind a tall hedge. Two Death Eaters, bottom-feeders from the looks of them, were idly chatting with each other. They were probably supposed to guard the house, but they didn't look very attentive, and certainly didn't notice the three invisible teenagers huddled just a few feet away.

"But the Dark Lord has won them over to his side, so there must be some way to communicate with them," said a stubby man with a bit of a beer belly and dirty clothes.

The other was dressed more smartly, but it didn't make up for the ugliness of his features. "Not all of them. You've heard the rumors, that one of the Dementors has gone rogue and joined up with Potter."

The general joviality of before hushed into secret whispers as the two hunched their heads together. "You've heard what the others have been saying, haven't you? That there's a new Dark Lord on the rise."

"But our lord has an entire army of them, while Potter only has the one."

"Yes, but he hasn't been captured yet, has he? And why does the Dark Lord want him alive alluva sudden?"

"Maybe he just wants the pleasure of killing the boy himself."

The short one shook his head. "Nah, I was at Hogwarts. I saw the way Lestrange bowed before the kid, as if he were the Dark Lord himself. No, I think the Dark Lord is afraid of him."

"Maybe..." The tall one swallowed before continuing. "Maybe we should contact Potter. Get in early—"

Their words were cut off by a shrill voice snarling _"Crucio!"_ Suddenly, the two men fell to the ground, writhing and screaming in obvious pain. The three of them whirled around to see Bellatrix Lestrange pointing her wand at the two men with her teeth bared. She flicked her wand up, and the curse ended. "You dare spout such disloyalties to your master? You dare!" Then she jabbed her wand back at them and the screams started again.

Draco couldn't bare to look, so he turned away instead to stare at Ron's trembling shoulders. He'd heard these same noises when he had still lived here, when the Dark Lord had ordered his father to torture his mother.

"Bellatrix, that's quite enough." Cowering as he had been, he hadn't noticed that Snape had arrived. Unlike them, the man regarded the twitching bodies on the ground with cool disdain.

The madwoman didn't stop her spell as she turned to glare at the old Potions professor with wild eyes. "They are disloyal. They deserve to be punished."

"Yes, but they've already passed out. Your torture means nothing."

Bellatrix blinked owlishly, ending the curse to stare at the two bodies on the floor. Sure enough, they didn't even twitch. "Weaklings." With a toss of her curly mane, she regarded Snape with a bit more sanity. "What brings you hear today, Severus? Shouldn't you be running the school? After all, killing a defenseless old man makes you the new favorite." Her jealousy was painfully obvious.

Snape, however, never lost his neutral and cool mask. "Narcissa wished to speak with me. Is that why you are here too?"

Now her good mood vanished again. "No. Someone has gotten into my vault," her face twitched uncharacteristically in an emotion Draco recognized as worry, though it looked alien on his aunt, "and I have a little goblin in the dungeon that should provide answers."

"I see," Snape drawled, looking incredibly uninterested. "Well, then..."

"Yes, let's," Bellatrix answered the unasked question, and together the two of them calmly made their way up the path towards the manor.

Only once the two of them were out of earshot did Draco speak. "We're going to have to split up."

"What?" Ron hissed. "No, that's a terrible idea."

"We have to. You heard Bellatrix. Someone broke into her vault, and she looked very worried. She might have a Horcrux in there. And she also said that Snape is the new favorite of the Dark Lord. If anyone might know anything it would be him. We have to trail both of them."

"He's right," Hermione whispered. "We can't miss either of these conversations."

"But we only have the one cloak."

Hermione glanced down at the two unconscious Death Eaters on the ground, and pulled out her beaded purse. "Good thing I keep a stock of Polyjuice Potion."

"You just carry around a fully stocked potions cabinet?"

"What? It's a useful potion." She shrugged. "Ron and I will disguise ourselves as those Death Eaters and follow Bellatrix. Draco, you take the cloak and tail Snape."

Ron paled, and Draco pitied him. He wouldn't want to have to follow his crazy aunt either. "But—"

"We don't have any time, Ron," Hermione said, and before either of them could protest, she left the shelter of the cloak to kneel down beside the two unconscious men. It only took her seconds to pluck hairs from each of them, and then she returned to their invisible shelter. She pulled two glass phials from that amazing purse of hers and dropped the hairs into each one, before handing Ron his portion.

Just before she took a drink, however, a thought seemed to cross her mind. "Oh!" She rummaged around in her purse before handing them each a familiar galleon.

"It's the coins from our D.A. meetings," Ron said.

"Yes. You remember that if you hold your thumb over it, that they'll grow hot." In the past, that had signaled that the new meeting time was about to appear on the coin. "If either of us gets into trouble, use your Portkey and alert the others with the galleon. The minute you feel the coin, you Portkey out of there, no questions. Got it?"

The two of them nodded.

"Good." And then she swallowed her potion in one go.

Watching the effects of Polyjuice Potion would always fascinate him. Ron turning into his brother had not been so drastic a change, but petite, female Hermione morphing into the tall, ugly man was hilarious. His thin mouth was only made uglier by the grimace on his face as he shifted his legs and looked uncomfortably at his crotch. Potions were amazing.

Once they had changed into the Death Eater's clothes, they hid the bodies, Hermione spelling one of the hedges over them, and walked up to the manor. He couldn't tamp down the surge of pride at the beautiful building, a testament to pureblood heritage and fine breeding. He hoped he'd still be able to inherit it someday. Harry might not like it, but he'd still want to maintain it for the family line. They could always live somewhere else.

He snapped himself out of his daydream. That fantasy would never come true if they didn't succeed here tonight.

They reached the front door, and the other two hesitated, before deciding to just push it open. No one came to meet them, and Draco supposed that they must have been here a while for a house-elf not to come greet a guest. Or maybe they were of too low a social standing to be greeted. Either way, it worked in their favor as they continued down the long entryway. The portraits of the previous heads of the Malfoy family watched them with clear disdain. Draco knew that they could not see him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the disappointment was meant for him. How strange, to be an intruder in his own home. Walls he had once found impressive were now intimidating.

They exited the entryway into the grand foyer, which would lead them to the various parts of the house. "The goblin is most likely being kept in the cellars," the invisible Draco whispered to his friends, pointing the way before realizing how fruitless that was. "It's to your right, past that small black door and down the stairs. We'll meet up by the brooms when we're done, alright?"

The two of them nodded infinitesimally, but since he was watching for such a thing, he noticed. With a silent wish of good luck, they parted ways, the two of them turning to their right, while Draco headed up the large staircase. They had lost sight of Snape, but if he had to guess where his mother would want to have an intimate conversation, he would guess the parlor room, or maybe even his father's study. He cast a spell to muffle the sounds of his footsteps and hurried along as fast as he dared.

The house was eerily silent for as "crawling with Death Eaters" as Sirius had said it would be. Of course, it was a large mansion, and they easily could be in another part of the building. Maybe even they were all having a hedonistic torture party down in the dungeons. He made his way towards the east wing with a sick feeling in his stomach. His bedrooms were in this wing, as was the tradition for the heir of the family line to reside here, some symbolism about the rising sun or other bollocks. He wondered who lived there now.

Pushing these thoughts aside for a dark day, he made his way to the parlor. The ornate wooden doors were carved with trailing vines that shifted, depending on the mood inside. Currently, they remained completely still, and sure enough, when he cracked open the door, he found the inside empty.

Still, he stepped inside, silently closing the door behind him. The room was on the smaller side for the mansion, giving it more of an intimate air. Sleek leather armchairs faced each other next to the ornate marble fireplace. Next to the window a silver harpsichord, one of the tacky elements, sat unused. It served more as decoration than as a tool of music. In fact, he didn't think anyone even knew how to play it.

Sweat rolled down his forehead. After a beat of complete silence, he removed the hood of the cloak and sucked in a lungful of sweet, fresh air. The fabric was stifling.

"Ah, so you know it too."

Draco froze before whipping around, frantically searching for the source of that voice, but no one else made themselves known to him. He was the only living being in this room.

"That power which humbles kings and empowers peasants." He turned towards the noise, and finally found the speaker. It was a painting above the empty fireplace of a flaxen-haired maiden, dressed in all the strappings of a woman of wealth in the Middle Ages. The artistry of the painting was masterfully done, with bold colors highlighting her rosy cheeks on lily-white skin, and deep shadows contrasting against her, giving her the effect that she glowed. The only thing odd about it was her eyes: they held absolutely no pigment, only blank canvas. "Yes, I can see it in your eyes."

Draco knew this painting, and even now, it still creeped him out. "The Lady with the Colorless Eyes," he said in way of greeting. Something about her bearing had always demanded respect and fear from him, and even as a recalcitrant child, he had found it difficult to be rude to her.

"Salutations, young Malfoy." Her smile widened revealing the tiniest glimpse of white teeth. She found her title amusing, and he knew she liked watching all of them scramble to try and figure out exactly who she was.

It was the greatest mystery of the manor. The painting had resided there since its inception, but predated the building itself, and no one dared to move it. The lady herself would neither confirm nor deny any rumors, and she would never answer any questions directly. His father's favorite guess was that she had once been the lover of both a Malfoy ancestor and his wife, renowned for her beauty and coveted by all. When the husband had died, the wife, realizing that her lover's beauty was temporary, wished to preserve her as she was in a painting, but could not find the exact pigment to truly represent the stunning color of her eyes, and so, rather than do them an injustice, she left them blank. "Or," his father had said, "the wife did find the right color, but it is unable to be seen by the human eye." Draco found this even more unlikely than the whole story, but then again, his father had always been a bit of a Romantic. He also believed that the Malfoy line had changed its looks to match hers, as some sort of tribute. The silver eyes were as close to colorless as they could get.

All he knew was that she creeped him out and said confusing things like that to him all the time. Still, portraits had eyes, and mouths. "I hope you will do me the courtesy of not telling anyone that I'm here."

She winked at him, made no less unsettling by her eyes, and put a playful finger to her lips. "Mum's the word."

He didn't think she was lying to him, still, the relief at her compliance was not complete. On the other hand, since she was in a cooperative mood, maybe he could use her. "My lady, have you happened to have seen Severus Snape in your other portraits?"

"The sourpuss? Last I saw, he was in the drawing room, speaking with that horrible snake-man." Voldemort was here? But Snape said— "However, he left already and now is on his way to the master's study."

Good, then he still had time to catch up to him. The conversation between Snape and the Dark Lord might have been more illuminating, but he was too terrified of being caught to feel truly disappointed at missing such an opportunity. He moved to replace the cloak, but the portrait spoke again.

"Young Malfoy, before you depart, a word: Love magic is ancient and powerful, and yet the easiest spell to cast if one only opens their heart. But fair warning, it is a two-way street."

He halted in his step, her words sounding as ominous as a prophecy. If Hate created it, then maybe Love would destroy it. "Have you ever heard of a Horcrux?"

She tilted her head curiously to the side as if listening for something. "No, I have not."

More's the pity. "Good day, my lady." Then he flipped the hood back over his head and ducked out into the hallway. The master's study was in the northern wing and not far, but if he wanted to catch up to Snape, then he had best hurry.

Luck seemed to favor him that night, for just as he had turned onto the corridor leading to the study, Snape had arrived from the opposite end. His black robes billowed out behind him in that same menacing fashion as when he had been Draco's Potions professor, but his skin seemed much more sallow, something fragile, like parchment. He had to remind himself not to feel pity for the man that had destroyed their best hope at saving Harry. Dumbledore had seemed to hold all the answers, and Snape had murdered him.

They reached the door at the same time, and Draco carefully slipped in behind him when the man entered and shut the door behind him. Before making any acknowledgements to the other two in the room, Snape turned around and waved his wand at the door, muttering enchantments. After a good full minute, he turned back around, narrowly missing Draco, before standing by one of the leather, button-tufted armchairs facing Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. "No one should overhear our conversation." Except for the invisible boy in the room.

His parents, not behind the large mahogany desk in front of the tall, curtained windows, but instead in the other two armchairs in the room, nodded silently. It struck him, then, how long it had been since he'd seen them. Not since that fateful summer night over a year ago. He could still hear his mother's screams in the back of his mind.

Looking at her now, he would not know that she had ever endured such a hardship. She sat in her chair like it were a throne, her back straight, but her ankles casually crossed and tucked a little under the chair. In her hand, she cradled a crystal glass of red wine, though she made no move to drink from it. Despite all that, her eyes were sunken and heavy with dark bags. He wondered what kept her up at nights? The memories of her husband torturing her under the orders of their master or her traitorous son?

His father, on the other hand, was a shameful mess. His hair looked as if it had not seen a comb in some time, his cravat was untied, and he noticed a distinct twitch in his left hand that held the silver cane that housed his wand. Even his toes, clad in fashionable leather shoes as they were, couldn't stop tapping nervously on the floor. If Draco had ever looked so sloppy and obvious, his father would have caned him. Malfoys did not show such obvious weakness.

Sullenly, his father pulled the silver snake head from the cane. Usually, this would reveal his sleek black wand, but instead revealed nothing. "My wand," his father's voice wavered and with it, Draco's heart. "Elm, thirteen and a half inches, dragon heartstring... What is a wizard without a wand?"

"A man," Snape answered coolly. "A husband and father."

His mother didn't break her icy mask as she put a hand on her husband's arm. "We'll get you a new wand, Lucius."

"It won't be the same. It won't sing for me." Then his father did something he'd never before seen in his life: he pouted. What in the world had happened to his father?

"Be grateful, Lucius," Snape said. "The Dark Lord could have taken your life instead of just your wand. He put you in charge of the Snatchers, and you have yet to produce any results. Potter still remains on the loose, and the slight your son committed unpunished."

"Have you heard anything, Severus?" Her knuckles turned white with the effort not to lean forward eagerly.

To her disappointment, Snape shook his head. "You know that they no longer trust me. I suspect that they are hiding with Black. Even with his newfound freedom," he sneered these words, "the renewed Fidelius Charms keep me from seeing the house. Do not fret, Narcissa. If I cannot find him, then that means the Dark Lord cannot find him as well."

She nodded. "I understand. He is resourceful and clever. He'll stay alive. After all, he's my son." Her eyes shown not with the light of the lamp, but with pride, and Draco never thought he would see that look again. To his shame, he felt his eyes water.

"And what of Potter?" His father asked. "I have heard rumors that he is to become the next Dark Lord. Is there any truth to it?"

Snape didn't answer immediately, staring somewhere over Lucius' shoulder. "Potter is in limbo. If he cannot be pulled from the darkness, I fear that such a thing may come to pass. This war is bad enough with only two sides."

That mangy blond head hung low between his shoulders, hands gripping his cane as if it were the only thing propping him up. "Merlin help us, the fate of the world rests in the hands of a sixteen-year-old boy."

"Now you understand my sunny disposition." The world really has gone mad if Severus Snape was cracking jokes. "If the Dark Lord gets his hands on Potter, all is lost."

As if sensing the ominous tone of the conversation, his trouser pocket chose that exact moment to heat up. He shoved his hand inside, feeling the warm metal of the galleon. No, he had to stay; he hadn't heard anything useful yet. But if the others had chosen to activate the galleon, then who knew what disaster was on its way.

He took one last look at his family, and then stroked the feather hanging around his neck.

 

* * *

 

When Draco opened his eyes, he saw a goblin sitting on the dark grey sofa of the Grimmauld Place living room. For a weird minute, he thought it was Kreacher after some horrible kitchen accident that elongated his fingers and feet, but the pure black eyes and wicked sharp teeth dispelled any confusion. Well, not all of it, such as why there was a goblin in their living room.

Luckily, Hermione and Ron were not far off, now back to their original shapes and clothing. They let out overly dramatic sighs at the sight of him. "Oh thank god," Hermione put her hand over her heart, and if she fainted, Draco would not be the one to move the dismally colored fainting couch behind her into place. "You took so long, we worried that something had gone wrong."

Surely he hadn't taken that long? "What's the goblin doing here?"

"The goblin is called Griphook," said goblin spoke instead. "And he can speak for himself, wizard."

Draco ignored him, instead looking towards his friends. "Bit rude, isn't he?"

"Malfoy!" Hermione chastised him. Funny, how he became Malfoy whenever he was in trouble. "He's been held captive in the cellar for weeks, being tortured and interrogated. He's understandably a little testy." At those words, the goblin cracked a nasty smile, showcasing exactly how pointed his teeth were. Subtly, Draco took a step away.

"We followed Bellatrix down, like you said," Ron helpfully explained. "She seemed impressed with how quickly the two 'Death Eaters' had recovered and let us help her. Turns out, she has the Sword of Godric Gryffindor in her vault, but she found out that it was a fake."

"It was an expertly made copy," the goblin said. "But a goblin can recognize our own craftwork, and that sword was not of goblin make."

Hermione continued, "So obviously, Bellatrix thought someone had gone into her vault and switched them. I don't know what made her think she'd had a fake from the beginning, but she seemed awfully scared that someone had gotten in, even though supposedly all they took was the sword. She let slip that she held something very precious in there."

"We think it's another Horcrux. She said she had been 'entrusted' with it. He trusted one Horcrux with a loyal follower, why not another?"

And no one was more loyal to Lord Voldemort than Bellatrix Lestrange. She was practically in love with the man, if something so twisted could be called love. She was one of the only Death Eaters who didn't follow him out of fear. Yes, he could see Voldemort trusting her with a piece of his soul. Ugh, what if the two of them were actually lovers? He just might hurl.

Ron seemed to have mistaken his grimace, and said, "I know it's not much, mate, but it's all we've got so far."

"Wait, so what happened that the two of you had to use the galleon?"

They exchanged looks, before Hermione said, "The potion wore off. I didn't know what to do, so I Stunned her. And well, I couldn't just leave Griphook behind, so, here we are."

Draco thought his eyes might just fall out of his skull from how far they were bugging out. "You did what?"

"I know, right?" Ron looked at her with a mixture of pride and adoration. Oh Merlin, he really hoped they weren't going to start snogging right in front of him and the goblin.

She flushed. "I-It had to be done. Either way, this whole adventure gave me an idea for how we're going to sneak into Bellatrix's vault." She held up a tuft of wiry, black hair and a familiar crooked wand. "If it worked for the Ministry, why not for Gringotts?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Lady With the Colorless Eyes is another one of those things that I knew I wanted to add into the story way back at the end of Storge, but couldn't find a reason to until now.
> 
> Guess what's in store for next time? Another heist!


	12. The White Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Boy - Spirited Away  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BF_cmaUMHE4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write this scene since the beginning of the series. And really, pay attention to the summary song this time. I pick these things very carefully (and not just because I love Joe Hisaishi). They literally are summaries.

He didn't know what they were thinking, having their secret meeting in the living room of the man they were hiding it from. Sirius walked in on them transfiguring Ron's face into that of a murder-hardened adult's while a goblin scowled at all of them. They had no choice but to come clean.

"I don't know what to be more angry about," Sirius shouted at them, pacing to and fro, and tugging on his hair, "that you deliberately disobeyed me to put yourselves in danger, or that you plan to do it again."

None of them were foolish enough to answer.

"Remus was right. I shouldn't have children." A sword made entirely out of guilt stabbed Draco in the gut. He imagined it slicing him from his left shoulder to his right hip. "Molly is going to kill me." He stopped then, to fix them all with a hard glare. "She will never find out about this. Understood?"

They nodded a little too enthusiastically.

"And I can't believe _you_ believed that three children who hadn't even started their sixth year yet could break into a place that is notoriously known for never having been broken into."

Draco, who never could take lecturing very well, argued, "But the goblin has agreed to help us."

Of course, that only renewed Sirius' fury. "And to make a promise to a goblin! A goblin! That's tantamount to an Unbreakable Vow. You don't break a promise to a goblin, they will hunt you down to the ends of the earth and take what they consider to be equal recompense, which is usually your life." The goblin, as if to confirm his words, smiled nastily.

"We planned on finding the real Sword of Gryffindor eventually," Hermione said, her hands defensively in front of her. "I have some theories about it, but—"

"You have no clue where it even is," Sirius finished for her icily.

"W-Well, no, but Griphook has graciously agreed to help us in the hopes that we find it in the near future."

"I bet he has," Sirius shot the goblin a dirty look. "And is he coming with us on this heist?"

"'Us'?" Draco asked.

He turned to face him with less fury than before. "Of course. It's obvious that you kids will do this with or without me, and I'd rather it be with me." He scratched the stubble around his untrimmed beard. "And if I'm being perfectly honest, it's not a bad plan. Despite how incredibly stupid you all were, you learned something useful."

The three of them beamed as if that were a glowing testimony.

So that's how the five of them ended up hiding in an alleyway just outside of Diagon Alley at the crack of dawn. Hermione, Polyjuiced as Bellatrix Lestrange and wearing one of those tight black outfits that his always aunt favored, shifted uncomfortably as she tried to get into character. Ron and Sirius had been transfigured to look unlike themselves, but wore the usual outfits one might expect a Death Eater to: black, billowing robes, and too many belts. And Draco was left under the Invisibility Cloak to piggyback the goblin in a most undignified manner. "Why am I always the one stuck under the Invisibility Cloak?"

"Because your acting skills are abysmal," Hermione answered without hesitation.

"They are not. If anyone knows how these Dark Wizards talk, it would be me."

"Exactly. You would fall back to your normal way of speaking and anyone that's ever met a Malfoy will know that it's you within seconds."

He took offence to that, but he also knew the Cloak provided the most protection. Still, he could do without the goblin.

"If you wizards are done blabbering," the goblin's deep voice tickled his ear. "Then I suggest we make our move, before the morning rush hits and you have even more witnesses to convince."

At his warning, they all nodded seriously, and made their way out into the shopping district. Diagon Alley had changed much since Draco had been there so many years ago with his parents, shopping for birthday presents. Even at this early hour, no one roamed the streets, and many of the shops were closed and boarded up, most notably Ollivander's. Everyone got their wands from Ollivander's. What were the eleven-year-olds supposed to do now? And plastered everywhere were posters of Harry, Undesirable no.1. It was eerie, walking down the empty lane with a hundred fifteen-year-old Harrys watching them with awkward, uncomfortable stares.It almost seemed as if they were all funneling information back to the real Harry.

"Much has changed under Voldemort's rule," Sirius said. Had he been younger, he would have imagined... He didn't know, the normal Diagon Alley but everyone bowed at his feet, probably. Not this. How did this better Wizardkind?

Grimly, they made their way to the tall marble building. Draco had visited the bank many times with his family, but never before had there been two wizards with Probity Probes guarding the entrance. Already they had hit a hurtle. The two guards took one look at Bellatrix and instantly straightened their posture.

The minute they reached the doors, their magical concealments would alert the Probes. Quickly, he took out Harry's wand and muttered, _"Confundo."_ The guards instantly slouched, taking on drowsy looks. They didn't so much as flinch when they opened the burnished bronze doors and walked inside. Why didn't people use this spell more often?

Ron glanced down at where he thought he might be in a look of gratitude before adopting his most neutral face and looking forward. They made their way to the grand lobby with no other interruptions. Hermione's heels clacked loudly on the black marble floors, causing all of the goblins working behind the tall wooden desks to look down curiously. He wondered if they chose such high desks so that they could feel taller than wizards, for once. Did they have ladders on the other side for them to reach their seats?

At the very end, a smaller goblin with wiry white hair crowning his balding head peered at them from behind reading glasses. His shiny brass nameplate read BOGROD, TELLER. He didn't say anything to them.

After a nervous moment, Hermione spoke first, "I...I would like to enter my vault, please."

Draco had to resist smacking his forehead loudly with his palm. And her acting skills were better than his?

Sirius sent her a nervous glare, and Hermione corrected herself by shouting "Now!" Yes, that sounded much more like his delightful auntie.

The goblin startled, smiling nervously. "Ah, Madam Lestrange. Identification, please."

The muscles in Hermione's arms tensed. "I hardly think that's necessary."

"I'm afraid it's the bank's policy, ma'am. Your wand will suffice."

Nervously, Hermione reached to pull out Bellatrix's wand, and Draco's guts tied up in knots. Then, he felt sharp claws dig into his shoulders where Griphook hung. "They suspect you," the goblin whispered into his ear. "They must know that her wand has been stolen. They will realize that it is hers, and we'll all be caught. You must Imperius him. Now."

Draco hesitated. He used to dream about casting Unforgivables as a kid, he thought it meant that he was powerful, but after Fourth Year...

Hermione handed over Bellatrix's wand, making a big show of crossing her arms and impatiently tapping her foot. Bogrod examined the wand, adjusting his spectacles on his hooked nose, face wrinkled in suspicion.

They had no choice. _"Imperio."_

Instantly, the goblin's features relaxed into a polite smile, and he handed the wand back to Hermione. "Right this way, Madam Lestrange."

All of them visibly relaxed, and they followed the teller to the back. They passed through a set of silver doors before entering into the vaults. The vaults of Gringotts extended far below into the complex cavern systems that only the bank's employees knew how to navigate. The only way to travel through the complex caverns was by cart, and with the Imperiused Bogrod leading the way, they traveled speedily. Draco peered over the edge. The tracks of the cart were built on high railings, and the caverns extended deep below, where the most protected vaults resided, little dots of lantern light in the deep darkness.

"Alright," Hermione said. "When we get inside the vault, look for a small golden cup with a badger engraved on the side. It'll have two handles."

"Hey, what's that?" Sirius said, pointing ahead. Sure enough, there appeared to be a small waterfall dropping water directly onto the tracks.

"That is the Thief's Downfall," Griphook answered. "It removes all magical concealment and enchantments, and then tosses the perpetrators into the abyss."

"It does WHAT?"

Unfortunately, they had no time to stop the cart, and they were pounded with a steady stream of water. When they came out on the other side, the others had reverted to their natural forms, although considerably more wet. Bogrod, turned to look at them with confusion, before the cart abruptly stopped and then tilted over. Draco felt a horrible moment when his stomach lifted up into his throat, and then they were all plunging into the darkness.

Their screams echoed about the caverns, and Draco heard Hermione shout something, but it fell behind them. When he reached the quickly approaching ground, his descent rapidly slowed until he landed painlessly on the ground. He heard a distant crash of the mine cart they were on smashing to pieces. Lovely.

When he looked around, he found all of them unharmed, and even better, he still had Harry's Invisibility Cloak clutched in his tight death-grip. He'd been afraid that he might have lost it in the fall.

"What..what's going on?" Bogrod looked around with much clearer eyes. "You all shouldn't be here."

Draco quickly waved his wand, casting the Imperius Curse again. He found it disgustingly easier the second time around. Useless now, he folded up the Invisibility Cloak and Shrunk it to fit inside his pocket.

Griphook clambered to his feet, dusting off his trousers. "They will most certainly know that intruders are in the vaults now."

"No thanks to you," Ron sneered. "Couldn't have warned us?"

"It's an unavoidable part of the lower vaults."

"Follow me, Madam Lestrange," Bogrod said politely, before hobbling ahead on his short limbs.

They didn't walk far, before Draco heard a deep rumble and the clinking noise of metal chains. They exited out of a long corridor into a large, round chamber whose ceiling rose high up until it narrowed into a small hole that let in a small column of sunlight and fresh air. In the center of the round room, chained to the floor, was a massive white dragon. At first, it reminded him of Harry's Patronus, but after closer inspection, he could tell that it was not an Antipodean Opal-Eye, but merely some other type of dragon that had gone pale from lack of sunlight. Its ribs protruded garishly from its leathery sides. A hungry dragon was a dangerous dragon. Likely it had been raised in this cave since it was born. Actually, on second thought, this looked nothing like Harry's vibrant Patronus.

At the sound of their approach, the dragon lifted its head in their direction, its eyes closed. It let out a low warning growl that shook the hairs on Draco's head. Griphook, however, showed no fear as he pulled something out of Bogrod's pocket and stepped forward. The object looked much like a stick with two cowbells on each end, and when Griphook shook it, it released a loud clanging sound. To his surprise, the dragon reared back as if it had been struck.

"It's been trained to expect pain when it hears this sound," Griphook explained over the noise.

"That's barbaric," Hermione said, covering her ears, and Draco found he agreed. Dragons were powerful, majestic beasts. Sure, they were dangerous, but seeing one chained to the floor and cowering from much smaller creatures burned him up inside.

Griphook only sneered at their sentiments. When they had passed the dragon, he handed the noisemaker back to Bogrod, who returned it to his pockets. They followed another long corridor until they had reached the parts where the tracks ran up alongside the vaults.

Bogrod turned back to look at them with a courteous smile. "Your vault is just up ahead, Madam Lestrange."

However, at that exact moment, the door to the vault opened and out walked Harry, holding a golden cup in his hands. There was a tense moment, when both of them noticed the other, frozen in place. They had come to this vault hoping to find Harry, but he never thought that they would actually run into him there, as if they were two neighbors bumping into each other at the grocery. _Oh, hey, Harry, fancy meeting you here. Are those aubergines? Oh, they're on sale? How delightful!_

Then Harry brandished his wand, shouting _"Flipendo,"_ and they went hurtling back the way they came. They landed on their backs, hard, skidding across the floor.

Draco groaned, struggling to catch his breath before opening his eyes into the faces of a couple of goblins, a handful of Death Eaters, and his aunt Bellatrix's face. "Now, now. Who would have thought my precious little nephew would be the one to break into my vault?"

Unless Hermione had Polyjuiced herself again, he was royally fucked. Of course they should have expected Bellatrix to take some precautions when the goblin she had been torturing about her vault and her wand were stolen just the night before. Fuck.

She held out her replacement wand with a snarl, likely about to hurl some horrid curse at him, when she noticed something and froze. "Potter?"

Draco quickly propped himself up on his elbows, and sure enough, Harry had run down the corridor after them, only to freeze in his tracks when welcomed by not only by the bank security, but also by a handful of Death Eaters.

"Well, isn't this my lucky day," she smirked at Harry, seemingly having completely forgotten about the others lying helplessly at her feet. "Capture him! Alive!"

Choas erupted. Spells began flying everywhere, and Draco turned over and crawled out of the way. This is what he expected to happen when Hogwarts was taken over that fateful day. He spotted Griphook and Bogrod running away, not that he blamed them. Hermione and Ron were surrounded by Goblin security, who had their own special brand of magic. Sirius was battling two Death Eaters, and Bellatrix and the other Death Eater were chasing Harry like a wild dog.

Of course, that left one Death Eater free to go after Draco. He sent a vermillion colored spell at him, but he rolled out of the way, and countered with a Stunner. To his amazement, it hit, giving him enough time to clamber to his feet. His heart pounded in his head, and for a horrifying moment, he was back in the Astronomy Tower, watching Death Eater boots stomp up the stairs.

A manic cackle brought him back to the present. His aunt had Harry cornered, hiding behind a Shield Charm as she and her lackey threw spell after spell at him like a New Year's fireworks display. He flicked his wand at them, _"Flit Slidor,"_ and the floor beneath them became as slippery as ice, and their feet flew out from under them. He ran over to Harry, to make sure he was alright, but was rewarded with a Full Body-Bind Curse. His entire body seized up, and he fell onto his back. Harry barely spared him a glance before running past him. No, no, no, no, he couldn't lose him now. No!

Then Sirius' face came into view, and he could move his limbs again. The man helped him to his feet, but before they could share a word, Bellatrix's howl of rage announced that she had made it back to her feet as well.

"Go," Sirius pushed him behind him, turning to face his angry cousin and her cohort. "I'll hold them off. Go find Harry."

Draco didn't linger long enough to say anything, just nodded and bolted in the direction he saw Harry leave. He caught up to him in the chamber with the dragon, where Harry was keeping it at bay with a whip made entirely out of fire protruding from the tip of his wand. Strange choice to fight a fire-breathing lizard. The pale dragon howled in rage, and gave a wide sweep of its wing that knocked Harry back.

"Harry!" He ran forward to make sure he was okay, but was stopped by the dragon turning towards him. He skidded to a halt just in time to dodge a blast of orange fire. Luckily, dodging the flames meant that he had dodged the curse that flew over his head as well. Harry had recovered and now attacked him with abandon. One of the spells hit the dragon instead, and it whirled around, hitting Draco with a wing and Harry with a tail. He was getting awful tired of being knocked onto his back. "Damn Horcruxes to hell!" He got to his feet with a snarl, and shot a Stunner at Harry. It was easily deflected, and returned with a golden spell, that Draco blocked as well. Harry readied another spell, but a roar from the dragon heralded an oncoming burst of flame, and he had to block that instead. Draco took this chance to through his own Full Body-Bind Curse, but a tail knocked him off course.

"Blasted dragon," Harry shouted in rage, but before he could attack it, Draco managed to land his Knockback Jinx and the boy went flying.

"I'm going to save Harry," he yelled over the dragon's roar. "You can't have him."

The Horcrux levitated himself back to his feet, face contorted in rage. "I told you already; Harry is dead."

"I don't believe that." This time, Draco kept one eye out for the dragon's movements, so he was able to dodge a swipe of its wing.

"Then you will die." With a shout, he jabbed his wand at Draco and white-blue arms of lightning shot towards him. They hit him in the leg with electric pain that jumped across his nerves, and he cried out, feeling the electricity dance across his entire form. The spell should have killed him, and yet, somehow, he was still alive.

While he was twitching, he felt his body raise unnaturally into the air, and he looked down to see Harry pointing his wand at him before jerking it to the side, sending him flying in that same direction.

Just in time, he shouted _"Molliare!"_ When he hit the wall, it was as if he had bounced on the fluffiest of cushions, and fell weightless to the floor. He was running out of spells in his arsenal.

This was nothing like the friendly duel between the two of them at Hogwarts. Of course, this wasn't really Harry, but a monster wearing his skin. Although, he hadn't used the Killing Curse yet, as one would expect Voldemort to.

 _"Expulso!"_ A burst of blue light blew up the wall behind him, trailing down large chunks of rock.

The dragon, angered even more by the rocks falling on it, flailed about, spilling fire from its mouth. The two of them put up Shields, but the heat in the chamber was unbearable, and his already shocked nervous system lit up in pain. Luckily, his opponent couldn't seem to stand it too, and a frigid blast of air blew all of the heat away. It did give Draco an insane idea, though.

While the dragon was busy nursing its wounds, the two of them went right back to battling it out. Draco threw up a Shield to block the sudden onslaught of curses, and then, when he spotted an opening, he dropped his shield to whip his wand up in a Z-formation. _"Calorenum."_

Time slowed to a trickle. Harry halted his movements with a shiver, as if Draco had used a Freezing Charm instead of a Warming one. His green eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open in that same way as when Draco had kissed him at the Yule Ball. As if...as if he had just been hurt. _"Sentimental fool."_

Draco understood something very important in that instant.

Harry's face returned to its snarl, and with a shout of _"Ascendio,"_ he leapt onto the dragon's back, holding onto its spines, before pointing his wand at the chain holding the beast down, and crying, _"Relashio!"_ The chains snapped off, and the dragon spread its wings with a bone-shaking roar.

Realizing what was happening, Draco jumped, latching onto the base of its tail just as the dragon took off. Harry pointed his wand at the small hole in the roof of the cave, and said, _"Defodio!"_ The rock crumbled away until the hole grew large enough that the dragon could fit through. And then Draco was blinded by the sudden sunlight all around them, and the cold wind buffeted him as the dragon rose higher and higher with every beat of its wings.

With sizable effort, Draco climbed his way up onto the back of the dragon, holding onto its large spines for dear life. When he got close enough, Harry tried to release one hand to attack Draco, but nearly fell, and so he sacrificed attacking for staying alive.

Safe now that Harry couldn't attack him, he shouted over the rush of the wind, "I know it's you, Harry."

Harry turned his head to look at him, teeth bared in a snarl. "You know nothing about me."

"It was never the Horcrux that was in control, was it?" Pulling himself higher, he shot his left hand out for another spine to pull his body even closer to Harry's.

"Shut up! I am Lord Voldemort. I am Death." His voice sounded hoarse, but that could have just been all of the shouting.

"No, Harry, this was all you." Right. Left. His head was now next to Harry's thigh.

"Stop talking. It couldn't have been Harry. He wouldn't have done all those horrible things. He wouldn't have felt all those dark thoughts. He..." Something wet smacked Draco in the face, and for a moment, he thought maybe they were flying through clouds or that it was raining, but when he climbed close enough to Harry, he realized that they were tears. "This was inside of me all along. Voldemort just pulled off the mask. I'm not a savior. I'm not a Golden Boy. I'm...bad."

"Harry, you're not—" But before Draco could finish his words, the dragon suddenly veered to the right, its body tipping until it was almost completely vertical. He scrambled to hold on to any part that he could, but the spines were smooth ivory, and at this angle, gravity pulled him down. With an embarrassingly high-pitched scream, he fell off, hurtling through the open sky, limbs flailing all about him.

For a moment, the blue sky and the dark green earth spun around him in a confusing jumble, but then he spread his limbs out akimbo and the world began to right itself, with the blue sky above him and the dark green earth zooming towards them deceptively slowly.

A scream of terror drew his attention to Harry, scrabbling through the air as if he might swim his way to safety, robes trailing behind him like a tail. Draco reached out his hand, straining for him. Through his terror, Harry noticed and reached back. Their fingers brushed, again, and then finally latched onto each other, threaded. He pulled himself closer so that he could grab Harry's other hand, and then they were facing each other as they fell through the sky.

Tears flew up from Harry's eyes, too slow to catch up with how fast they were falling. Draco's mind was a panicked blur. They had no brooms, no spells that allowed them to fly. He cursed his inability to Apparate, and he feared that even if he did know, his fear would keep him from properly focusing. He could try the Cushioning Charm, though he had never heard of it saving anyone from this height, and he would have only one chance. Shit, shit, he didn't know what to do. They were going to die, and he didn't know what to do. If only there was some way to summon the dragon back—

"Harry, Harry, you need to summon your Patronus."

Harry shook his head, still sobbing.

"You have to. It's the only thing big enough to fit both of us. If you make it strong enough, it will catch us."

"I can't. Dark wizards can't produce a Patronus."

His heart broke for him, and whether it was the harsh wind biting his face or the look on Harry's face, his eyes began to water. "Yes, you can. Having darkness doesn't make you evil, Harry, it just makes you human."

"I killed all those people. I wanted to kill them. I wanted to hurt you and my friends. I wanted everyone to hurt." He clenched his eyes and turned his head away.

He remembered the look on Harry's face when he had chained that stone heart to his ankle and then tossed him into the lake. It was hard to reconcile that with the boy crying in front of him as they plunged towards the ground. "But you also feel remorse, you feel love. You're not good because you don't have bad thoughts and feelings, you're good because you still love despite all of that. And I love that about you."

Harry's eyes flew open, and he looked at Draco as if he had just plucked the sun out of the sky.

Draco held his hands even tighter and pulled him closer, so that their foreheads touched. "I love every single thing about you, Harry, especially the dark parts. And I will always save you from that darkness when it becomes too much."

His eyes closed, and he took a deep breath, then he released one of Draco's hands to pull his wand out of his pocket and point it below them. The incantation that Harry muttered was so soft, that Draco lost it in the rush of wind.

A silver light sprung forth, so bright that Draco had to close his eyes. With a force that knocked the breath out of him, he hit something solid, but then his downward movement was redirected, and he scrambled to hold onto anything, but not once did his right hand release Harry.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself on the back of a glowing silver dragon, with Harry just ahead of him, straddling its back with one hand still clutching onto Draco's. Maybe it was the grateful smile that Harry showed him, or maybe it was still the adrenaline from the fear kicking in his veins, but he let out a victorious shout. If anyone could conjure a completely solid Patronus, of course it would be his Harry.

Now that the imminent danger had passed, he took a moment to actually look at their surroundings. They were certainly nowhere near London anymore, as the ground beneath them was green with a lush forest, and in the quickly approaching distance, an enormous castle. A familiar castle.

"Is that Hogwarts?"

Harry didn't answer him. His grip on Draco's hand slackened, and before he started teetering over the edge, the dragon beneath them vanished in a wisp of light. For the third time that day, Draco fell from dangerous heights, but he had never been more afraid than when he saw that they were plunging towards the Black Lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just imagining Harry and Draco with big fat Studio Ghibli tears.


	13. A Crown of Hawthorn Berries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Regards to Love: Agape - Yuri On Ice!!!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xt_VZ13voCQ

Water was all around him pushing him further down into the murky depths. He flailed about, feeling manacles on his ankles, and he let out a scream, but that too was consumed by the water. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move. He was going to die, he was going to die, he was—

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another body in the water, but this one did not move as he did. Harry didn't so much as twitch as he slowly sank down. A memory of a dream resurfaced as he watched the shadows of the bottom of the lake move up to swallow him. Lungs straining, he swam downward as fast as he could, grabbing onto the boy's foot, before pulling out Harry's wand from his pocket and pointing it up to the surface. With a wordless spell, they ascended, rocketing out of the lake and onto its pebbly shore.

Draco coughed up water, and thought there must not be a worse feeling in the world. It felt as if his entire body were made up of water, and he supposed, in a way, that was true. His lungs burned and his throat was sore, but at least he was breathing. When he looked over to Harry, the same was not true for him.

"Harry!" He knelt before him, shaking his still body. He wasn't breathing, oh Merlin. "No, no, not when I just got you back."

"Move!"

He looked up to see Snape striding towards him with his wand pointed at them. Instinctually, he moved into a defensive position over the other boy, even though the smarter thing would have been to draw his own wand.

When he didn't move fast enough, Snape sneered and then magically flung him off of Harry. He landed hard on his shoulder, splashing on the shoreline as the water lapped at him. Terrified that it might suck him back in, he scrambled back onto dry land.

 _"Anapneo."_ Draco twisted around to see Snape standing over Harry with his wand pointed right at his throat. Harry gurgled up water, coughing.

He rushed over to him, and to his disappointment, Harry's eyes did not open, although his nostrils did flare open and his chest rose.

"How long has he been like this?" Snape asked him.

"I-I don't know, it just happened. Wait, how did you know we were here?"

He fixed him with a deadpan look. "The giant glowing dragon was hard to miss. And as Headmaster, I am alerted whenever the wards around Hogwarts are disturbed."

Oh. Right. "What do you want with Harry? You're not planning to take him back to Voldemort, are you?"

"I am not your enemy, Draco. Nor am I Harry's." He paused, glancing back at the castle. "We should move out of sight."

He thought about what he had seen of this man. He found it easier to trust him than was probably smart. With a nod, he picked up Harry, ignoring the look Snape gave him as he did so. When a hot blast of air from Snape's wand dried them off, he muttered a small "thank you."

He followed Snape up the hill towards the nearest building, which happened to be the boathouse. Not exactly the warmest place to be in the middle of October, but he supposed they wouldn't be interrupted there. How strange to think that the school year had already begun without him, without Dumbledore.

Arms shaking with the effort, he lay Harry down on the wooden floor, regretting his refusal to just levitate him. Snape knelt down beside him. "What happened before this?"

So much. "We were fighting at Gringotts... It's not the Horcrux, sir, it's been Harry the whole time. This was just another personality, like the others. We were on a dragon and then, well." He blushed, realizing that he wasn't making much sense.

Somehow, Snape seemed to have gleaned the right information anyway. He nodded, as though he truly understood what was going on. "I believe that this must have been the last fraction of his mind. Now that all the pieces have been settled, they must be stitched back together."

"But how would we do that?"

"The same way it was torn apart." He held his wand at the ready, before fixing Draco with one of his signature hard stares. "I do not know how long this will take. You must guard us while I'm inside Harry's mind."

He nodded firmly. "Understood." As reluctant as he was to leave Harry's side, he knew it would all be for naught if a student, or worse, one of the Death Eater professors stumbled upon them. He walked over to the door to the boathouse, and steadfastly kept from looking at the two behind him. When he heard the whispered, _"Legilimens,"_ he crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited.

 

* * *

 

  
Severus found himself in a Muggle house. He knew it was Muggle from the sheer amount of electronics everywhere, with functions he could barely grasp. He recognized a toaster, a microwave oven. Growing up in a Muggle household, even with his witch mother, let him recognize a fairly nice Muggle kitchen. The walls were pasted with some disgustingly floral wallpaper with photos of a very normal and very boring family. Was this perhaps the household the boy had grown up in? He would have expected his mindscape to take the form of his beloved Hogwarts.

Though the house may appear to be empty, he knew that the mind liked to work in metaphor. Doors often led to other parts of the mind, instead of rooms, and he had a feeling which door he should go through. He made his way out of the kitchen and through the living room. More pictures of a disgustingly rotund boy and his walrus look-alike with that horrible horse-faced Petunia. How could she and Lily ever be related? No pictures of Harry, though. He shook his head. He couldn't let himself get distracted.

He pushed through until he found himself in front of a set of stairs, staring at a small door. When the makers of this house had built it, they had likely intended for it to be used to store coats and Christmas decorations, not a boy. What would Harry's childhood have been like if he had found another person like him, as he had found in Lily? Would it have made any difference? With a shake of his head, he grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. Instead of seeing a small and dusty cupboard, he found a much larger room, though he could only see a floor covered in rubble from this angle. He stooped uncomfortably low in order to squeeze himself through the doorway.

The scene he came across was something from his nightmares. He had been in this nursery room once before, though something about it was wrong. The ceiling, for one, was gone, blasted off, to reveal a starry Hallowe'en night. No, not stars, he realized, but mirror fragments, reflecting different thoughts and memories. They were not nearly so numerous as before, but they were still there, still echoing ghostly whispers. He looked down around the rest of the room. It was broken up too, giant fissures in the ground that separated parts of it into islands in a black abyss. He stood on an island with the doorway, which, when he turned back around to look, led to nothing. To his left was an island with a simple wooden table with many shelves beneath it holding towels and nappies. An island to his right had a dresser, the white paint chipped and peeling, but it was strangely attached to the wall, as if he were looking at it while laying down. And then before him, seemingly too far away, was a crib. It was not empty.

With a sigh of relief, he realized that the only other body in the room aside from him was of a small baby. It was crying loudly, wailing and wailing, and despite being in someone else's head, Severus could feel a migraine coming on. The way to the island was treacherous, only fragments on the floor like stepping stones keeping him up from the unfathomable abyss below. He didn't know what would happen to him if he fell down there. Likely he'd be trapped in this broken mind forever.

Finally, he made it to the crib. Harry, only a year old, sat in a blue-striped onesie, red scar fresh on his forehead and bleeding, big fat tears dripping down his splotchy, chubby cheeks. Was the boy really in that much pain? He knew nothing of infants. He took a step forward with the intent to pick the baby up and bounce it around in a desperate attempt to silence it, but he stepped on something. He moved his boot to find a rag doll laying on the floor, its limbs ripped off and stuffing trailing out of its body like blood. With a blink, he realized that the doll bared a striking resemblance to Harry, with short strands of dark brown yarn to represent his unmanageable hair, and even a pair of spectacles sewn in around bright green button eyes. A single line of dark red thread cut a jagged lightning bolt shape on its canvas forehead. Even with its limbs torn off, the doll still smiled.

He crouched down, to pick the doll up and to get a better look, but stumbled back in shock at what he saw hiding under the crib. A large and bloody fetus curled in on itself struggling to breath. It's freakishly long limbs shifted so that its bald head could peak up at him with a familiar face. 'Horcrux,' he thought. This was the piece of Voldemort's soul that he was looking at. Such a dark and disgusting thing.

Still, it didn't move much, probably couldn't, being only one eighth of a person. It could not harm him, so he decided to ignore it for now. He picked up the torso of the doll, its large head lolling limply, and the crying stopped. He looked up to see the baby staring down at him with red-rimmed eyes. He knew then that the baby was not the real Harry. Or, really, it was, for this was all Harry, but that the doll represented his state of mind. If he fixed the doll, then he fixed Harry. Yes, the mind did like to work in metaphor.

He picked up one of the limbs, the right arm, and dropped it almost instantly. He had been assaulted with pain, foreign feelings of despair and fear that cut into him like a knife. He growled. Of course, this wouldn't be so easy. He conjured up a needle and thread, a spool hovering just at eye level. With a deep breath, he picked up the arm again.

Sadness, such deep sadness. Prepared for it now, it didn't shock him, but his muscles still tensed. He saw the green light of a Killing Curse behind his eyes, watched Lupin fall through an impossible veil, felt himself sink his fangs into Arthur Weasley.

No, these were not his feelings, not his memories. "Magic can be scary," he told the doll. "It is a force of nature, powerful and mighty, but it holds no allegiance. It's not particularly evil nor particularly good. It is what you make it out to be." He brought the arm to its rightful place, and brought the needle down to sew the pieces together. But when he pulled it back up, he found that the thread had vanished. He looked up to find the spool of thread still there, but the parts that had been used to fix the doll were gone. No good?

The arm sent him feelings again. He blinked back tears, remembering a time when he had run from his house, from the sounds of his father's yells. He saw Cedric Diggory's body fall before him, eclipsed by a green glow like a halo around his head, heard the shrill scream of a woman, felt the rage that this rat had betrayed his parents, his friends, saw James Potter point his wand at him. What has magic ever done but caused him pain?

"No, Harry. That was not magic, but the people behind the wands. They made those choices. Magic can be beautiful. Don't you have any happy memories of your time at Hogwarts?" He tried to shift around, to pry the boy's mind for the right memory, but they were shattered, piles of glass dust that slipped through his fingers. He had little joys in his life, but Severus knew that magic had been one of them. His escape.

He thought of those early days, living in Spinner's End. The wonder when he made a pebble move, when he felt warm despite the hole in his boots letting in snow. When he had seen that redhaired girl with eyes the color of magic open up her palm to reveal a blooming wildflower. He thought of those summers when they would lie on the grass underneath the old willow tree and make the leaves dance above them. The joy of brewing a potion together in class.

Suddenly, glowing golden thread appeared, already threaded through his needle. Of course, he couldn't use just any old thread to stitch the boy back together. He had to heal him with what he lost. He pushed his needle through the canvas skin, and when he pulled it back out, the golden thread remained. He pushed the needle back through, sewing the arm stich by stitch back onto the body. "Magic is more than just sparks shooting out of the end of a stick, Harry. It's more than just transfiguring things out of other things, and bending the world to your will. It's this strange force that brings people together, it's the love of a mother for her son, it's the loyalty of a friend, the acceptance of a lover." As he spoke the words, he found they were not mere platitudes, but held some wisdom. He was realizing this just as he was telling it to Harry. "Magic is...people." There, the final stitch, and he need only give the string a strong tug, and it detached itself before dissolving into nothing. The limb remained attached, even better, in fact, for the cloth looked as if it had never been torn.

Bubbly laughter brought his attention up to the crib, and Severus was startled to find the infant clapping its tiny hands gleefully. Harry was looking up at a mobile hanging above his crib with little owls of different colors dangling, and flapping their wings as they moved in circles. Despite himself, he smiled. And then, remembering what he was doing and who he was, promptly stopped that.

Now that he knew what to do, he sat down on the floor, legs folded in front of him, and grabbed the nearest limb, the right leg. When he picked it up, he felt a desperate need tugging at his breast, a thirst that felt unquenchable. It startled the breath out of him, and he ached with this desperate longing inside of him. Love me, please love me.

_"I'll do whatever you ask, just...please love me."_

This time, when his heart broke, he knew it was his own. _"He's just a boy,"_ Molly Weasley's voice echoed in his mind. How many times had Harry reached out to his aunt and uncle, only to be rebuffed? How many times did he sneer down his nose at this child and tell him he would never amount to anything?

"You don't have to be a mindless slave to be loved, Harry." His voice cracked embarrassingly, and he had to clear his throat to continue. "Even when you break the rules, even when you do something we don't like, we still love you. I... I love you. You are not your father, and you're not your mother. You're just you." The golden thread shimmered back into existence. He set to sewing. "You anger me so much because you don't do what I expect you to do. I want to hate you, I want to find some piece of Lily inside of you, but you can't be anything but what you are. And that's fine. What you are is perfectly acceptable." There, he tugged at the thread, and it snapped before disappearing. The leg remained in place.

He looked up to the crib, and found the baby asleep, thumb in his little mouth. Severus curled his lip at the drool leaking out. Babies were such disgusting creatures. He'd wipe the drool off later, right now, he had a task to complete. He picked up the other leg.

Lily. He could feel her essence blossoming inside of him, and for the first time in too long, he smiled at the thought of her. Their time together may have ended in tragedy, but he had known this amazing and brilliant person. He had known magic. He had known love. He may not have done right by her, but he would do right by her son. "Don't worry, Harry. I'll protect you in her place." He paused in his sewing to look up at the sleeping babe. The thumb had fallen out of his mouth, and a beige fleece blanket had made an appearance, wrapping itself warmly around the boy. "You are so loved, Harry. We all love you, and we'll protect you." He surprised himself with the vehemence with which he spoke. He felt a fire spark to life behind his ribs. His gaze flickered to the bleeding parasite in the shadows underneath the crib.

Finally, only one limb left. He knew already what it would be when he picked it up. The fear and darkness practically radiated from it, like some sort of cursed object. It was no wonder they had all thought this personality to have been the Horcrux, and not Harry himself. It shouldn't be so surprising that a bitter darkness loomed within the boy's heart. And yet, so strange that he still remained pure, despite it. Or maybe because of it.

A surge of anger, wrath of Fiendfyre proportions tickled his throat. He hated everything, he hated his friends for having what he had always wanted, he hated the adults around him for failing to protect him, he hated his parents for leaving him. He just wanted everyone to go die and leave him alone. He wanted to hurt people as he had been hurt.

Severus gasped, but refused to let go of the little plush limb. To have all of this hatred and bitterness inside of him, and to still smile, to still embrace his friends, and to cry tears. Harry Potter was so much stronger than any of them realized. Severus would have given in to the darkness long ago. In fact, he had, and it had been the worst mistake of his entire life. To his amazement, the gold thread appeared. Before, he had needed to conjure up specific memories, proof of what it was the boy desired. Then realization struck him. Understanding. He had just wanted understanding. Feeling weirdly humbled, he sewed the final limb in place. With a tug, the string snapped, and the world around him changed.

Gone was the broken room with the fragmented stars. Now he stood on a frozen pond, with soft as marshmallow snowflakes drifting down. Distantly, he could hear bells and the clopping of horse hooves. His breath puffed out in little clouds in front of his lips, but he didn't feel cold at all. The world was clean and white, and he wondered if this is what Muggles thought heaven to be like.

He still had the rag doll in his hands, and the crib was still before him. The baby was awake again, grasping at snowflakes with tiny hands and wide green eyes full of wonder. Harry giggled when a snowflake landed on his nose. Beneath the crib, the bloody fetus still remained. He stepped forward, wary of slipping on the ice. He gently placed the doll in the crib before the infant. "You should take better care of your things."

Harry looked up at him, no longer amazed by the snow. His tiny hands (so small; how can a human be that small?) reached forward and clasped onto his finger. The air was still between them, but the baby let go, instead grabbing the doll to hold it tightly to him. Yes, he would have rather the boy had been his own. He may not like children, and babies were disgusting and noisy, but he wanted nothing more than to have raised this child. 'There's still time,' he thought to himself.

He took a step back, and then another. How tempting it was to remain in the boy's mind, to bask in the cool feeling of his soul. No, his job was done. He shouldn't invade his mind any more than he already had. He turned slightly, to see his exit back to his own mind, two holly trees bent toward one another in a makeshift archway, mistletoe tying their tips together. His gaze flickered back to the piece of Voldemort's soul. One of its bony, bloody hands had wrapped around the leg of the crib, just resting there.

He hadn't been able to protect Lily, but he would protect him.

Calmly, he knelt before the crib, back hunched as he scooped up the shivering fetus, and cradled it to his chest, as if it were the precious infant. He stood up and made his way towards the exit. Just as he had reached the two trees, he turned to glance one last time over his shoulder. To his surprise, he saw a large white dragon with opal eyes approach. It had a wreath of hawthorn berries around its horns like a crown, and its body curled protectively around the crib. Severus turned back around and left.

 

* * *

 

  
When Draco heard a shuffling noise, he whipped around to see Harry sitting up and clutching onto Snape like a koala to a tree. He instantly dashed to his side, kneeling awkwardly beside the new Headmaster. Harry had his face buried in Snape's shoulder, but Draco could see the quiver of his shoulders and here the reverently whispered "thank you."

Snape sat there staring at the boy practically in his lap like he were a fungus, his arms held out as if he were afraid to touch him. Draco could hardly blame him. He couldn't remember a single moment that the two had ever shared so much as a handshake.

But then all thoughts of Snape flew out the window, when Harry's eyes flickered in his direction and then launched himself at him. "Draco!" He held the boy in his arms tightly to him and was surprised when Harry squeezed him back just as tightly. But all too soon, he pulled back so that they could face each other. Harry was sobbing and laughing at the same time, which was such a funny sight that Draco couldn't help mirroring him. "You did it! I knew you'd find me."

And then, because he finally could, Draco kissed him. His body sizzled, as if someone had cast a Cooling Charm and a Warming charm on him simultaneously, and the effect wasn't unlike a cold sweat.

"I just might vomit."

Embarrassment and anger boiled up in him, but Harry only laughed. "You're just jealous, Snape. You wish you could kiss Draco too."

Both of them stuck their tongues out in looks of disgust, only causing Harry to laugh harder. Merlin, how long had it been since he'd heard that sound? He wished to hear no other sound for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, the next sound he heard was a feminine gasp. They all turned around to see Pansy Parkinson standing in the doorway with her hand over her mouth.

A wave of exhaustion surged through him. Could the Fates not just give him an hour to catch his breath?

Snape was the first to break the silence. "Parkinson, what are you doing down here during class?"

She answered automatically, "It's my free period, so I'm doing my rounds for the Carrows. What are you doing here? What is _he?"_ She pointed her accusatory finger at them, though whether it was at Draco or Harry, he couldn't tell. Probably both.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "You will go back up to the castle, Miss Parkinson, and you will forget about what you saw here."

"And why should I do that? I should tell the Death Eaters that those two are here."

Draco stepped forward. "Pans..."

She glared at him. "Now look how the tables have turned. High and mighty Draco skulking about the boathouse. We all told you, Draco, we warned you that getting involved with him would ruin you." The direction of her heated gaze made no mistake to whom she spoke of, but despite the sheer animosity channeled his way, Harry seemed unaffected. Instead, he looked to Draco, as if asking him to take the lead in this situation. He supposed it was only proper. She was his friend once, after all.

"Pansy, I know you don't want to do this. You may act mean, but you've never enjoyed its consequences."

She barked out a venomous laugh. "You're one to talk. But I did hold some affection for you once. Here, if you come with me, I'll tell them that you helped me to capture Potter. You'll be welcomed back a hero, Draco. We can just forget this horrible thing ever happened and go back to the way things used to be."

'This horrible thing' of course being his relationship with Harry. He shook his head. "I don't think I could, Pans. And I don't want to."

Her cheeks grew ruddy, her eyes watered, but no tears spilled forth. Her hands were clenched into trembling fists. "Why not? Everything was perfect, it would have been perfect, if not for him. We could have been together, if he just didn't exist."

"No, I would never have loved you. You would have kept us both trapped in our gilded cage. In the end, I would grow to resent you for it. The plans they had for us, they wouldn't have made us happy, Pansy. You have to see that."

This time, her tears did escape, and she sniffed loudly. "But why _him?"_

He turned to look at Harry, who stared back at him with complete faith in his eyes. He knew that Harry was letting him take the lead so that he could settle this thing with Pansy, so he could reconcile their childish dispute and move on. He was letting Draco decide how they should proceed. "Because he set me free." He looked back at his old friend with a smile on his face, because he had Harry back, and so long as they were together, nothing could hurt him. "We're not children anymore, Pansy. It's time we started deciding things for ourselves."

Her gaze drifted to the ground, and she angled her body away from him so that she could stealthily wipe her nose. "I won't...tell on you." She didn't look back at him. "I'll forget what I saw here."

Surprised, he opened his mouth to thank her, but they were interrupted by a new arrival. Of course. Did he drink a bad brew of Felix Felicis or something? A tall man in velvet black robes stomped in. "Is— Is that Harry Potter? And the Malfoy boy?"

Pansy whipped around to stare up at him with a pale face. "No, don't—"

"Amycus, leave at once," Snape growled, his wand already out, and if Snape had his wand out, then Draco thought he should too.

Amycus, however, was a bright fellow, and understanding dawned on his face. "I always knew you were a traitor." Then, without warning, he flung some purple curse at them that missed, and when it connected with one of the boats, it instantly caught aflame in a flash of purple. Snape countered with his own spell that struck true, and Amycus fell backwards as if his entire body had turned to stone. Pansy screamed.

Snape growled something out probably not suitable for polite company, before he pulled Draco and Harry into a tight embrace, and Disapparated away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, Snape was on the good side the whole time. Who would have guessed?


	14. To Die in Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Symposium Magarum - Puella Magi Madoka Magica  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oa8AVGdhZMY

Of all the places for them to have ended up, the larder of the Hog's Head Inn was not exactly what Draco would have expected. He looked around the dusty barrels stamped with the iconic boar's head. Shouldn't they move further away from the castle of Death Eaters? Surely there were other strongholds? But, of course, Snape had been kicked out of the Order, so he wouldn't be keyed into the wards to Apparate there anyway. Though he hardly thought Hogsmeade any safer.

Without a word, Snape climbed the stone steps and into the warm light of the kitchen. The entire room was utterly filthy, and the floor was so dirty, that Draco thought it might be the actual ground at first. The sink held a pile of grimy dishes and next to it a rack of glasses covered in dust. Merlin's beard, did the owner not know the _Scourgify_ spell?

"Stay here." Snape paused only for a moment to hit them with his _I'm serious_ glare. Draco was too tired and confused to disobey him anyway. Snape left through the swinging door.

At warmth on his arm, he turned to see Harry smiling hesitantly at him. He still hadn't quite grasped the fact that yes, indeed, this was his Harry, he was back for good. He'd process all of this after he'd had a kip. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by the return of Snape. He silently gestured for them to follow and then he disappeared again.

The Inn was completely deserted, except for one man. At first glance, Draco thought it might have been Dumbledore, except he looked much grumpier and his hair more wiry and dark grey as opposed to the light silver that Dumbledore's was. He still had the same sparkling blue eyes behind dusty spectacles. Snape helpfully introduced him. "This is Aberforth Dumbledore, owner of the Hog's Head. And yes, he's Albus' younger brother." Aberforth sneered at that. Ah, no love between brothers then. Especially if he was feeling chummy with his murderer.

"It's noon," Harry said, looking conspicuously around the bar.

Aberforth grunted. "Not much business these days, other than a few Death Eaters." They hadn't seen Hogsmeade, but he'd bet that it resembled Diagon Alley.

"We need to find a way to return you two to the Order," Snape said, and looked like he was going to say more, but then Harry interrupted him.

"No, we're not going anywhere."

As expected, Snape looked furious. "Excuse me?"

Harry, the little shit, smiled. "You're excused." Snape looked apoplectic, but before he could curse the boy into oblivion he continued, "Draco needs a break. He looks like he's about to pass out."

All eyes turned to him. "Uh, no, I--"

"No. You need to rest." Then Harry turned to the adults. "We're safe here for the moment, right? There's nothing so urgent that we must move now."

Snape said "Other than the castle of Death Eaters just down the hill searching for you."

Harry rolled his eyes. Did he suddenly have a death wish? Sure, Snape wasn't technically their professor anymore, but such blatant back talk... "They saw us Disapparate. We could be anywhere. They'll hardly expect us to be in Hogsmeade."

The two of them glared at each other, a battle of wills between them. He wouldn't be surprised if there was an actual Legilimency battle happening. Surprisingly, it was Snape who pulled back. "Fine."

Harry beamed, turning to Aberforth. "Could we have some lunch, please? I don't think either of us has eaten at all today."

"Bossy kid." But Aberforth walked back into the kitchen anyway. On second thought, Draco wasn't so sure he wanted anything prepared in that dirty room.

"Potter--"

"And you look like you could do with some rest too, sir," Harry said. "Have you been sleeping at all lately?"

"I do not need your mothering--"

"We can catch up and decide our next plan of action after everyone's had a moment to catch their breath."

"Fine, then I shall go rest away from bossy brats." Then, in a dramatic whirl of his black robes, Snape pivoted around and left.

They sat at the empty bar while they waited for their meal. Draco took this moment to really examine Harry. He still wore the same clothes as when he had been left. Actually, if it weren't for the heavy bags under his eyes, Draco wouldn't have known that anything had ever happened to him. "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Never better. No, really, I've never felt this good in my life. It's like this weight has been lifted, or...a dark cloud has blown away."

He rested his chin on his knuckles. "So you're all sunny skies now?"

Harry snorted. "Definitely not. I'm just...more well-adjusted? I think when Snape put me back together, he fixed a couple of things. This whole ordeal has helped me to work out a few issues."

Draco frowned at that. He didn't like the thought of Snape rummaging around Harry's head, even if he appeared to be on their side. Who's to say he didn't tweak a few things while he was in there? Although, if that were true, you'd think he would have made Harry more subservient.

Their conversation was interrupted by Aberforth returning with two plates of yorkshire pudding topped with sausages and gravy. His mouth watered at the sight of it, and he barely waited for the old man to remove his fingers from the plate before he started digging in. Now that the smell wafted up into his nostrils, he found that he was utterly famished.

"Nice table manners." Harry bit into his sausage with more care than him.

He tried to tell him to bugger off, but his mouth was still full of food, so it came out more like "fuffa boff." Harry laughed, but didn't tease him any more as they ate.

Only once he had finished most of his plate did he slow down to a more sedate pace, finally registering the fullness of his stomach. Harry had eaten all of his meat and most of his pudding, before eyeing him obviously. "What?"

"There's something I should return to you." He reached into the inner pocket of his robes to pull out Draco's wand, which he handed back to him. "I think it protected me, while I was...you know. I couldn't cast any Unforgivables with it. That's why I had to find that Dementor." His gaze drifted downward, and his voice lowered to an intimate murmur. "I don't think I could have conjured that Patronus without it."

The wand felt warm in his hands, and something inside Draco settled. Nothing felt more right to him than his wand. "Here, you should have yours back too." He gave Harry his wand. "I think it also protected me."

"Good to know." They fell silent for a moment, and just as the weight of his exhaustion was pushing on his eyelids, Harry spoke again. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

Harry looked sick. "Everything. The lake." Draco swallowed a dry lump of food. "Even before, you were so good to me, and I... I don't deserve you."

Draco nearly dropped his fork. Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, undeserving? There had once been a time when he would have agreed, but how could this wonderful person who opened his world be undeserving? "That's not true. It's not about deserving or earning. I like you, and that's the simple fact of it."

He chuckled. "That's what I'm talking about right there. You've saved my life, no, even more than that, and all I've done is hurt you."

He set his silverware down to grab Harry by the wrist and look him dead in the eye. "You've done so much for me, Harry, and I won't let anyone, not even you, convince me to let you go. You're my first choice, and I'm going to keep choosing you until we die."

And there, there was the Harry he knew, the insecure, fragile little boy who soaked up love like a sponge in the desert. He lived for that tiny smile. "See, I told you it wasn't all sunny skies."

He leant forward so that their foreheads touched and the feeling sent a spark down his neck. "I've always been rather fond of rain."

"Sap." But it was Harry who tilted their chins closer to kiss, and now Draco felt like the sponge. "Come on, let's get you to bed." At his leer, Harry corrected, "Oh, not like that you, pervert. You really do look like you're about to pass out."

Pulling two heists in the span of twenty-four hours would do that to you. He followed him up the stairs to one of the empty rooms. The minute his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

  
When Draco awoke, it was to the dark of night and a full bladder. He sat up, the moonlight filtering in through the filthy window illuminating Harry's sleeping form in the bed across from his. The urge to watch his sleeping face lost to the pressing need of his bladder. He stumbled out into the hall, searching for the loo.

When he had finished relieving himself, he walked out into the dark hallway, suddenly feeling very awake. He wished he had brought his wand with him, because navigating the narrow corridor in the dark resulted in many stubbed toes and bumped knees. A thin line of golden light drew his attention to one of the rooms. Someone was still awake. Curious, he tiptoed over, leaning close to the door to eavesdrop.

The voice he heard was Snape's. "Fifteen years... How could he bare this...?"

Unfortunately, his leaning on the door had caused it to open, with him tumbling inside. There was a pause where they both stared at each other in surprise, before Draco colored in shame. "Uh, sorry, I just had to go to the loo."

"Well, it's obviously not here."

"Right, sorry, sir." He turned to quickly leave.

"Wait." He turned back around to see a most unusual look on Snape's face. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the man looked conflicted. "Stay. We should talk."

Feeling like he were about to get detention, he walked back into the room, closing the door properly behind him. At Snape's gesture, he sat on the empty bed opposing the one Snape sat on.

"Harry... How is he?"

"Back to his usual self, I'd say. Well, maybe a bit more chipper than usual."

"Good. Then it seems to have worked."

Draco nodded, and without knowing what else to say, fell silent. They sat there for what must have been a full five minutes before Snape spoke again. "Draco, the time for secrets has passed. You may ask me anything you wish."

"Why did you kill him?"

He knew who Draco was talking about. "None of you knew this, but Dumbledore was dying. One of Harry's attempts to murder him nearly succeeded, and the curse upon him was slowly killing him. And believe it or not, Dumbledore had suspected that such events may occur, and so he asked me to take on the task, should what we suspected about Harry ever come to pass."

It made sense. Why sacrifice your queen just to save a bishop? He supposed, in this scenario, that would make Harry the king. He could appreciate the important task Snape had undertaken, how difficult it must have been to murder the man he most respected. "Why? Why do any of this? Why put yourself at such risk?"

"For the same reason you never gave up on Harry. The same reason you chose to go to the Order of the Phoenix instead of letting me take you out of the country."

"Who?"

"A very dear friend of mine. Someone whose trust I betrayed." Maybe not all secrets would be revealed, but Draco could understand keeping some things private.

"My parents..."

"They are fine, for the moment. The Dark Lord is most displeased with Lucius' track record so far, so he's mainly been appropriating their property for his goals, but neither of them have been harmed. They have been kept out of many of the meetings. They worry only about you now."

"It's their fault we're in this mess in the first place."

"We've all made horrible mistakes in the past. We didn't know what we were signing up for."

Anger welled up in him. "What did you think would happen? That Voldemort would peacefully transition into power, and there would be no consequences? You guys started this war, and now you expect Harry to finish it."

He hesitated, expecting a harsh backlash for talking back to a former teacher, but Snape only hunched over, shoulders drooping. "You're right. We're trying to fix it."

All of the hot air escaped him in a single sigh, leaving him deflated. "Sorry for yelling at you. I appreciate what you're doing."

Snape, no, his Uncle Severus shook his head. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you."

"You couldn't, not without giving up your true allegiance."

"I've tried to teach you how to protect yourself, to make you stronger, so that you won't make the same mistakes I did."

"I think you did a pretty good job so far, well, aside from that horrible Hate Potion debacle, but your heart was in the right place."

Uncle Severus smiled at him, as if they had shared in some private joke, and the feeling of wrongness settled over him again. They were talking like they were friends, like they were father and son. Severus had never been this sentimental before.

"What has Hogwarts been like?"

"About what you would expect. The Muggle Studies class was canceled. Dark Arts has replaced it. The Carrow siblings have taken it upon themselves to manage the discipline." Draco winced. The Carrows were renowned for their sadism. "The Gryffindors haven't taken well to the changes. Much of Potter's friends are in hiding, not that I care to learn where exactly. Their rebellion has earned them some harsh punishments, try as I may to avert them." But he wouldn't be able to do very much while maintaining his cover. "Aberforth has been supplying them, as the house-elves have been ordered not to feed them, though a certain one has ignored these orders, of course, that just means he is in trouble too." He must be talking about Dobby, his family's old house-elf. The creature was so enamoured with Harry and strange, this sounded like the sort of thing he would do.

"And what about you?"

"Me? I'd much rather be the DADA professor than Headmaster."

They relapsed into silence again. Uncle Severus never really did seem to enjoy children, so he supposed being in charge of all of them wouldn't be much of a step up. And, of course, the circumstances about which he gained his promotion. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he nearly flinched when he heard Severus' voice again.

"How has living with the mutt been? That is where you've been staying, right? Has he been treating you well?"

"I couldn't stand living with him when Lupin died, but he's been rather helpful with the hunt for Harry, and I suppose I shouldn't complain too much, since he let me live in his house."

"Don't let him bully you. Black is a crass, arrogant bastard who thinks the world revolves around him. He's worse than Harry. On that note, don't let Harry push you around either. He seems to think that just because he has a prophecy about him, that means that the world must move for him."

Draco laughed lightly. "Thanks for the concern."

His signature sneer returned, and there was the loveable Potions professor he had come to know. "You are weak to manipulation, and you must be the one to use logic if the two of you are going to survive. Don't let a pair of pretty green eyes turn you into a fool. And you're too self-sacrificing. You need to think about your own needs as well. And have confidence in your own actions, put forth your whole effort. Stick to the paths you choose. Oh, and never mix rainflower with wormwood. It will ruin any potion."

With a blink, Draco realized that he was being lectured. He'd never had this kind of advisory talk with his father, and he wondered what prompted his godfather to give it to him now.

Their discussion was interrupted by a sudden hiss from Severus, who clutched onto his left arm, curled in pain. Draco instantly went to his side, feeling useless. Then his godfather straightened up enough to reveal the Dark Mark on his arm, vivid and writhing.

"I must go," Severus grit through his teeth. "I can't refuse a summons. Draco, you must take Harry and leave this place, make your way back to the Order."

He stood up, and Draco followed him. "No, come with us. We'll explain everything to them."

But Uncle Severus shook his head. "My purpose is best served by the Dark Lord's side. I'll be fine. Worry about yourself." The pain must have receded, because he finally straightened his back, wiping away sweat from his brow. Then, he dug in his pocket and pulled out a golden Snitch, which he unceremoniously dropped into Draco's open palm. "Give this to Harry, and tell him..." He paused, looking over at the door before shaking his head. "Tell him I'm sorry."

"Wait, Uncle Severus--" But the man had already left the room, and he knew it would be faulty to try and stop him. He'd gotten this far, he would be fine.

With nothing else to do, he returned to his room. The door creaked loudly as he opened it.

"Draco?" A sudden ball of wandlight lit up Harry's face, his hair adorably rumpled from sleep. He reached for something on the nightstand beside him and put on his spectacles. "Where were you? I woke up, and you weren't in your bed..."

"Sorry, I just had to go to the loo, and then I bumped into Uncle Severus. He was acting rather odd. Actually, he just left."

"Left? Where to?"

He shrugged. "Hogwarts, I presume. He had to answer a summons from Voldemort. He actually wanted me to deliver something to you." He handed him the Snitch.

"A Snitch?" He rotated the ball around, as if that might divulge its secrets.

"And a message. He says 'I'm sorry.'"

Harry froze. "He said what?"

"'I'm sorry.' Harry, what's wrong?"

"When have you ever known Snape to apologize to me?" He stood up suddenly, grabbing his robe and throwing it on. "We have to go after him."

"What? Harry, what are you talking about?"

Harry grabbed his hand, tugging him insistently out the door. "I think he's going to let Voldemort kill him."

Draco's heart leapt into his throat. No, but why would he do that? What's the point of all of this, just to die uselessly now? "Why?"

"I don't know, but the only reason he would apologize to me is if he doesn't think he'll be able to make it up to me in person." It did make a sort of sense, the way his mentor had acted overly sentimental. He had been saying goodbye. But what had changed? Why would he throw himself into the fire now? He never did anything if there wasn't something to gain out of it.

When they had made it downstairs to the bar, he dug his heels into the floor. "Wait, do you just plan on waltzing right into the castle full of Death Eaters?"

"We can't just leave him! There's no time to call for help, we have to stop him before it's too late."

"Not if it puts you at risk. We need to find another way inside."

Finally, Harry seemed to pause and fully consider his words. "The Shrieking Shack?"

"No, that will only put us on the grounds, and we'd still have to find a way to sneak inside the castle." He wrung his fingers, straining for any idea. "Wait a minute, Uncle Severus told me that Aberforth has been sneaking supplies into the castle for the Gryffindors."

"Why would the Gryffindors need supplies?"

"Oh, they've been rebelling against the Death Eaters, and so they're in hiding. Either way, Aberforth must know of another way into the castle."

They wasted no time in running to the man's bedroom in the inn to wake him up. He didn't react too friendly to his sudden awakening, but they had no time to be polite. Although, Draco hadn't imagined he'd need to have such a serious discussion with an old man in his nightgown. When they demanded the passage into Hogwarts, he only glared at them. "No."

Harry stepped back, sputtering. "What do you mean 'no'? Snape's in trouble, and we have to save him."

"And he told me not to tell you. Who do you think I should listen to?"

"Us, obviously," Draco added helpfully.

"Please, sir," Harry begged. "He's going to get himself killed. We can do this, I promise you."

Aberforth shook his head, his wiry flailing about him. "How many more people will have to die for my brother? You should stay out of this, boy."

"I can't. I'm already in this. And if you help me, I can save another one of those people. No one needs to die tonight."

The old man looked at him, staring into those pleading green eyes, and Draco knew no one could resist the full force of them. Sure enough, Aberforth gave a dramatic sigh, getting out of bed, and beckoning them to follow. He led them to one of the private rooms and stood before a large portrait of a meek looking girl with thin, flaxen hair.

Harry seemed to recognize her instantly. "Ariana..."

Aberforth nodded. "She can show you the way."

"Hello again, Harry Potter," Ariana spoke in a soft voice. "Was my brother able to help you?"

Harry smiled back sadly. "No, he wasn't. But that's okay." Draco quirked his head inquisitively at him, but Harry just shook his head. Another time, then.

She nodded, and then turned around, heading into the tunnel behind her, and then the frame of the portrait swung open to reveal a real tunnel. Harry stepped into the tunnel, before pausing to look back at Aberforth. "Thank you." And then he continued on, and Draco followed.

This tunnel, unlike the one that led to the Shrieking Shack, was not damp with dirt, but covered in stone so that their footsteps echoed loudly, bouncing all around them to sound as if an army were marching. Their wandlight revealed little ahead of them, but luckily the floor was smooth and even so that they didn't trip over anything. Of course, he knew the magic of passageways like these tended to shrink distances, so he wasn't completely surprised when a small dot of light appeared already. As they got closer, they could hear young voices.

To both of their surprise, the tunnel ended into a large chamber supported by tall pillars to which hung many hammocks, but most importantly housed many familiar faces. They all turned at once to gasp, "Harry!" The old DA members were all there. They all rushed forward to hug Harry and welcome him back, and to his surprise, a few of those were reserved for him as well. Dean Thomas slung an arm around his shoulder. "Malfoy! No surprwise to see you with Harry, eh?" He couldn't even remember a time when they had exchanged any words, and suddenly he was wrapped in a side-hug. These Gryffindors were feeling awfully sentimental lately. "I've got a present for you."

Before he could even question him, Dean dragged him over to a corner of the room where a familiar dollhouse sat. The other boy easily released him so that he could fall to his knees in front of the structure. "Harry Jr.!" He ignored the snickers behind him, instead peering into the windows of the house. He let out a sigh of relief when a reptilian head stuck out of the front door and spat fire at him.

Dean kneeled down beside him. "Ginny nicked it from Snape's office. Slimy git was going spare when he couldn't find it. Don't know what he would want with it, though." Probably for the same reason Dean had wanted it, but still, he was grateful to see his little dragon again.

"Guys, I need your help." At Harry's word, they all fell silent, and took a step back so that they could see him better. Draco stood up to walk to his side. He really wanted to take Harry Jr. with him, but they were headed towards danger, and the safest place for him was in this room.

"Of course, Harry," Neville stepped forward. This was not the Neville he remembered from last year. He walked with his head held high, displaying the cuts and bruises on him with pride. What in the blazes happened here? "Whatever you need."

"I need to find Snape. I don't suppose any of you know where my old map might be?"

"I have it," a hand shot up from behind the crowd. They parted to reveal Ginny Weasley, holding a folded piece of parchment. "We've been using it to avoid the Carrows." She handed it over to Harry, who immediately pointed his wand to it and spoke the password. "So why do you need to find Snape?"

"To save his life." Draco's eyes scanned the pages. Where would Voldemort wish to punish a traitor? The dungeons perhaps? The Headmaster's Office?

"There, it's Snape and..." Ginny trailed off, her face white as a sheet. He followed her trembling finger to the Astronomy Tower (why was it always there?), where two little dots labeled Severus Snape and Tom Riddle were.

"Oh Merlin," Draco breathed. They were too late.

The map fluttered to the ground as Harry took off out of the suddenly appearing door. He could hear the others call out to him, but their voices fell behind too as Draco followed Harry. Luckily, the Room of Requirement was already on the seventh floor, so the Astronomy Tower wasn't far off.

"Harry, wait!" The boy didn't stop. What did he expect to do? Just waltz right up to Voldemort and demand he let Snape go? They needed some plan of action.

His heart thudded loudly in his ears. Amazing how they didn't encounter anyone on their way up. Sure, it was the middle of the night, but surely one of the ghosts or Filch was patrolling the castle. And then they reached the stairs that would lead up into the tower, and Draco swore he could feel his neck hair stand up on end with dark energy. Harry paused only to take his wand out before racing up the steps. Stupid Gryffindors.

He didn't know what he expected to find. But when he reached the top of the steps, he saw Harry's shaking back and Severus Snape lying motionless on the floor.

"No!" Harry dropped to his knees beside the man, and Draco ran to join him, quickly putting his fingers against the man's pulse point on his neck. Nothing. Just cold flesh. His heart stuttered, and his eyes burned. He had just talked to this man a little under an hour ago. He had just let him go, even knowing that he was walking towards Voldemort. He should have stopped him. He should have...

Harry started shaking the body, as if Severus were just asleep. "No, you can't be dead. You promised... You said you would take me to see the ocean. You promised."

But Snape didn't answer. Instead, a high-pitched voice behind them hissed out, "What a touching scene."

They whipped around to their feet, wands out in a flash. Tom Riddle, Voldemort's name had been on the map. How could they have forgotten about him?

"Harry Potter," Voldemort's blood-red eyes latched onto him. "Someone's fixed you." His eyes darted momentarily to the body at their feet. "It seems my dear Severus has betrayed me in more ways than one. At least he has served me in death, by luring you here to me."

His knees shook, and Draco held his wand out, but for some reason it wouldn't focus on the madman in front of them.

"It seems my little experiment failed. No matter." Then Voldemort raised the black wand in his hand.

Draco didn't think, he just yelled, _"Protego!"_ A shimmering shield flew up on front of Harry, and whatever spell Voldemort had been about to use ricocheted off and into the night sky.

"Draco Malfoy," Voldemort hissed, the sound dancing across Draco's nerves like lightning.

Before he could think about what spell he was going to use next, Harry waved his wand. "Don't touch him."

Voldemort quickly blocked the spell, and Draco didn't give him enough time to recover before he started hurling every hex he knew of. Harry joined in, and they had Voldemort on the defensive. He conjured a giant shield with a curving snake on the front, which left his wand free to attack. Draco threw up his own shield over Harry, but that left him exposed. Voldemort was not one to let an opening pass.

Instead of attacking Harry, he aimed his wand at Draco. His vision flashed bright red before pain unlike anything Draco had ever felt brought him screaming to his knees. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry hesitate and turn to face him before a cerulean light hit him, and his entire body was encased in a blue orb with runes running in long ribbons all around it. The orb was so small that Harry had to curl up, as if he were sitting on his knees. He struggled against his spherical prison, pounding his fists against the clear blue walls, but they merely stopped in mid air as if meeting glass.

Draco struggled to move, but as soon as his hands started pushing against the ground, another wave of pain shocked his body, and he was spasming on the floor again. When it relented, he turned to the side to vomit.

"Let me out," Harry shouted, even though everyone there knew it was futile.

"No, I won't," Voldemort sounded too pleased with himself. "If you are of no use to me awake, then perhaps I should put you back to sleep. I'm going to store you away where no one will ever find you."

No, no, he couldn't lose Harry again. Draco forced his twitching limbs to cooperate, and he brought himself up into a sitting position. Harry was still punching the wards holding him in place. Distantly, Draco wondered why he wasn't using his wand, before he spotted it on the floor beneath him. Bugger.

"But first," Draco felt a shiver pass over him as those crimson eyes looked straight at him, "I must rid myself of another traitor."

"No!" Harry screamed, renewing his efforts to punch the magic orb. "No, leave him alone! Don't touch him!"

His screams only made Voldemort smile, who took great joy in slowly walking towards where Draco lay on the ground. "Don't worry. I won't lay a single finger on his head." His wand had fallen out of his hand and clattered out of reach, and he desperately inched towards it, but another wave of the Cruciatus Curse kept him in place. "Watch, Harry Potter, as I kill him in front of you. It will be the last thing you'll ever see."

He had to find someway out of this. He needed to get to his wand. Harry sounded as if he were the one being hit with the Cruciatus Curse rather than him, as if his limbs were being ripped apart from his body. With all of his effort, he turned his head to look at him properly. Tears were streaking down his face, and his wide green eyes flickered back and forth between him and Voldemort. If he was going to die in green, he'd rather die in the green of his eyes.

"Not Draco! Please... have mercy... have mercy.... Not Draco! _Not Draco!_ Please — I'll do anything!"

Harry... He'd go back into that darkness. There's no way Voldemort would simply let him sleep peacefully for eternity. He would trap Harry in nightmares, chained to the depths. Draco had to save him. He had to find some way--

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

There was a flash of green light and a loud bang as if from lightning striking a tree. The wand in Voldemort's hand had exploded, and the force of the shockwave sent him flying backwards, and over the railing around the edge of the tower. Just as the green faded from Draco's vision, Voldemort's black robes disappeared out of sight. He stared at the empty spot where the Dark Lord had once stood, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

"Draco! Draco!" Hands forced his head to turn towards Harry. Ah, when the wand exploded, the spell must have worn off. His heart ached at the tears that freely flowed down the other boy's cheeks. "Merlin, are you alright? Can you stand?"

He nodded, but when he tried to work his legs underneath him, they wobbled. Only Harry's hands on him kept him from tumbling back to the floor. His throat hurt. "Harry..." His voice sounded raspy.

"Oh god, Draco. I-I almost lost you." His hands roamed all over his face, smoothing back his hair, and rubbing some unseen dirt from his skin. It felt nice. With each pass of his hand, his shrieking nerves quietened. "I just got you back, and I almost lost you again."

'I could say the same,' he wanted to say, but his throat was too raw to waste on that. Instead, "We need to leave. That wouldn't kill him."

"B-But Snape..."

"Harry."

He stared at him for a long time before nodding. "Right. Right, I... Right." He leant Draco against a wall long enough for him to pick up both of their wands from the floor, and then he slung Draco's arm over his shoulder and helped him hobble down the stairs. Draco tried really hard not to think about what they were leaving behind.

They got all the way down to the sixth floor, before they were ambushed by two Death Eaters, one the same man they had seen yesterday (today?) and the other a woman. Ah, this must be the Carrow siblings. "Harry Potter!" the woman yelled, waving her wand.

Harry dropped him in order to defend himself, and Draco crashed painfully to the floor. However, before any spells could be cast, another set of voices yelled _"Stupefy,"_ and the Carrows fell to the floor. When Draco managed to pull himself up, he had expected the DA members to stand there triumphantly.

He certainly hadn't expected Pansy, Blaise, Vince, and Greg. "Go," Greg told them. "We'll handle them."

"But--"

"Harry Potter!" They turned around to the squeaky and unusually cheerful voice behind them. "Dobby has come to rescue Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy." The little house-elf, wearing mismatching hats and gloves, held out his hand.

"Dobby?"

"Harry Potter's friends sent Dobby. We must go, now."

"Wait," Draco said, looking back at his old friends, but the elf put his tiny hands on both him and Harry, and with a painful pop, they disappeared.


	15. The Sword in the Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dearly Beloved - Kingdom Hearts II  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1tuxgBu09c
> 
> But also, A Window to the Past - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MrZB9nPMvS4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't choose between summary songs, so in the end, I just chose both of them.

With a loud pop, they appeared in a simple living room. The sensation left Draco's blood rushing in his ears as he took a look around. The walls were white plaster with seashells sunk in, and a sun roof above them let in cool moonlight. The well-worn furniture was all pastel, and a placard of Excellent Service to Gringotts Bank was hanging off of one wall. From the color scheme and the rushing sound of waves crashing on a beach, he'd guess they were in some sort of beach house.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, looking around curiously.

"We is being in Shell Cottage, sir," Dobby answered, just as a door to their right flew open to reveal Ron and Hermione.

They took one look at Draco, and then one look at Harry standing beside him, and then they flew forward, wrapping both of them in a painful hug that knocked all of their heads together.

"Oh my god, Draco, you did it!" Hermione's laughter was wet with tears. "You brought him back."

"We thought you were a goner," Ron, to Draco's utter horror, also sounded like he were crying. And, yep, that was a distinct salty wetness dripping onto his clothes. "Both of you."

But then their tearful reunion was interrupted by a startled voice saying, "Harry?"

With sudden strength, Harry extricated himself from the group hug to stare at his godfather standing in the doorway, his eyes wide. "...Sirius!" And then he practically tackled the man, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and burying his face in his chest. "I'm sorry." His entire chest heaved, and the sobs were audible, even if no one could see his tears.

The three of them watched Sirius' heart break as his face twisted in pain, but he managed to keep from loudly sobbing like the boy he held tightly in his arms. "Oh Harry. I'm the one who is sorry. I couldn't protect you." He looked up at them with a silent plea.

With a solemn nod, Ron and Hermione dragged him into the room that they had exited out of. They entered into a small kitchen with many windows, lit by various oil lanterns on the walls, where a tall redheaded man with horrendous scars across his face had his arm around a very attractive blonde woman. Wait a minute, that was Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Champion from their fourth year. What...?

His confusion must have shown on his face, because Ron quickly explained. "This is Bill, my older brother. Remember, he was sent to Hogwarts to protect us?" Oh right. He didn't recognize him with those gashes across his face.

"It was Fenrir Greyback," Bill explained, and Draco blushed. His staring must have been obvious. "He was amongst the Death Eaters that infiltrated the castle. Luckily, he didn't turn me, just left me with these lovely scars."

Fleur said vehemently, "And what do I care if my husband is scarred? I am beautiful enough for ze both of us."

Once they were all seated, he asked, "So what is everyone doing here? What happened?"

Hermione explained, "Well, after you ran off after Harry, we held back the Death Eaters for as long as we could."

"Of course," Ron added, "once we saw you two leave on the back of a dragon, there was no point in staying."

Hermione nodded. "Right. So Sirius reached for both of us and he Apparated us to Grimmauld Place, but Bellatrix managed to grab a hold of the back of his clothes, and so she came along with us. Since she was unintentionally 'invited' in, the charms protecting the place are now useless."

"Oh, you should have seen it, Draco. Sirius punched her in the face, and then he took us here, sans crazy witch this time. It was awesome."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, but now it means that we can never go back there ever again. Bill and Fleur have so kindly offered Shell Cottage as an Order safe house, with renewed and stronger protection spells applied. We'll be safe here for now."

"Wait. How did Dobby know to take us here? How did he even know where we were in the first place?" Draco eyed the elf beaming up at them from where he sat in his own chair, socked feet swinging back and forth. He was so short that only his eyes were visible over the edge of the table.

Surprisingly, it was Bill who answered. "We've learned that elf magic is different. He's able to bypass wards that would stop a wizard. It's why the house-elves are able to Apparate within Hogwarts. So he's been acting as a sort of go-between with all the different members of the Order. We're pretty spaced out, and it's nice to have a messenger that can't be tracked. Safer than owls, plus he can take people with him, as you've learned."

"People never notice the house-elves," Hermione said in indignation. He still thought her silly for championing a cause no one cared for. "Anyway, we received an owl with a note to pick you guys up from the Hog's Head Inn, and well, we weren't sure if it was a trap or not."

Ron spoke up enthusiastically, "It was the same owl that delivered us the fake Slytherin Locket."

"And Dobby volunteered to look," the house-elf cheerfully raised his hand. "But when Dobby went there, he couldn't find Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy. So he asked the barman, who told Dobby that the sirs had gone to Hogwarts to die. Dobby was so worried, he searched all over the castle before he found them." And what impeccable timing, too.

"Now tell us what happened," the edge of the table dug into Hermione's stomach, she was leaning over so far. "How did you two end up at Hogwarts?"

He told them everything. Recounting the story, he couldn't believe that all of this had happened over the span of a day. Flying on a dragon, landing in the Black Lake, Snape healing Harry's mind, escaping to Hogsmeade only to have to sneak back into Hogwarts just to be too late to save his godfather, and then coming face-to-face with Lord Voldemort himself. His muscles twinged in remembered pain.

They all sat in silence, whether they meant it to be respectful to the dead or to simply process everything, Draco let them take all the time they needed. After sleeping for half the day and into the night, his mind was clear and active. The others, however, seemed to be on a much more normal sleeping schedule. Their eyelids were drooping and their shoulders slouching. They must have been up all night, waiting for Dobby to return.

A quick _Tempus_ Charm revealed the night had actually passed on into the morning. Fleur blinked drowsily at the glowing numbers. "Quoi! It is so late."

Bill stood up. "We can put off this discussion until everyone's had some rest." He looked over at Draco a little sheepishly. "We don't really have any rooms available, would the couch...?"

He just shook his head. "I'm going to stay up, actually. I'm not at all tired."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine." He waved them all off to bed. When they returned to the living room, he found it empty again. Harry must have decided to go bunk with Sirius tonight. They surely had a lot to talk about.

Once everyone had gone to sleep, silence reigned over the night. Of course, saying he was going to stay up was different from sitting alone in a dark room by himself. Deciding that he was safe for now, he decided to follow the sound of the rolling waves to the outside.

Shell Cottage actually sat upon a cliff overlooking the sea. The air smelled of saltwater and lavender, and the silver moon danced across the mild waves. He couldn't tell where exactly in Britain they were, but this late in the year, the spray of the ocean was cold and damp. He pulled his robes tighter around himself, and walked out past the sea lavender. He pointed his wand at the edge of the cliff to mutter a Cushioning Charm, before plopping himself on the ground, feet dangling over the edge. He peered over. The cliff wasn't that high up. He'd likely survive a fall, though it would hurt like a bludger. The sand might absorb most of the blow.

His godfather was really dead, wasn't he? He hadn't quite processed it fully until he'd had this moment to himself. At the time, he had only thought of getting Harry to safety. Now, looking at the silver waters, he realized that he'd never get to see Uncle Severus again, and that even when the man had been saying goodbye, he was too much of a dunderhead to return the favor. He wondered who they would get to replace him. Two Headmasters murdered within the span of a couple of months. "The world is so fucked up right now."

He didn't know how long he sat there, watching the waves roll in and die upon the shore, but shivers had started to set in to his bones. Just as he was starting to think about heading inside, an unnatural warmth seeped into his skin. Startled, he flicked his head around to see Harry sit down next to him before tucking his wand back into his pocket. Hastily, he wiped his eyes. "Harry, I thought you were asleep."

"I was. I woke up. And then I felt a bit silly for crying onto my godfather like I was five, so I came out here to mope." He bumped his shoulder affectionately against Draco's with that small smile that he only showed to him. "Great minds think alike, eh?"

Draco snorted, but didn't say anything else, and soon they entered into a companionable silence, broken only by the sound of the ocean. He didn't realize how good another warm body would feel, and he eagerly sidled up to it, and when Harry decided to rest his head on his shoulder, Draco let his cheek push down the unruly raven strands that he loved so much.

"He's really gone, isn't he?" Harry's voice wasn't any louder than a murmur.

"Yeah." It didn't matter who he was talking about. They were all gone.

"I..." His words trailed off and ended.

"No, go on."

"It's just... I cried more over Snape than I ever did for Remus. That's a little strange, isn't it?"

"You weren't exactly given the opportunity to grieve. And the amount of tears does not equal the amount of grief."

"Yes, but I feel sadder about Snape. It just doesn't make any sense. I used to hate him for so long, and Remus was a family friend. It's just... we were just starting to understand each other." His voice sounded strained, but Draco didn't look away from the ocean.

"It sounds to me like you're mourning the future you two could have had together rather than the past that you did have." Unlike him.

Harry chuckled. "Yeah. I'm just sick of everyone dying around me, you know? I mean, if I thought losing Snape was bad, then Dumbledore..." He heard a shuddering breath. "I never got to say goodbye."

He turned his head to press a kiss into that wild hair. "How much do you remember?"

"Everything. The problem is trying to figure out what actually happened, or what was just an illusion of my mind. Voldemort liked to fuck with my head a lot." Understatement of the year. "I don't think I can talk about it yet."

"I'll always be here when you do."

Harry pulled up to look him dead in the eye. There was so much trust there in that sea of green, and all of it for him. He'd never been given such a gift, nor such a responsibility. "I know you will." Then he leaned forwards to kiss him.

It didn't last nearly long enough, but Draco let him pull back, because he knew there would be an endless supply for him in the future. Fingers trailed along the side of his face, ghosting over the ridges of his temple, the curve of his jaw, as if Harry were a blind man trying to picture his face. He looked into his eyes and wondered how he could ever have been anything but madly in love with this boy.

"Merlin, Draco, when you look at me like that..." Harry sighed.

"How do I look at you?"

"Like I'm something amazing. Somebody to be worshipped."

He couldn't resist any longer and pressed their lips together. "Then let me worship you."

"I'm not worthy of it."

He growled. "I thought we'd already had this conversation." He pushed Harry onto his back, his hands beside his head, holding himself poised over the other boy. "You've changed my life, Harry Potter. Without you, I'd still be a coward too afraid of his own parents to even breathe without their permission. I hated who I was back then, and you gave me my freedom. You showed me that not only was I worthy of love, but that I could return it. I don't think you understand what horrible fate you saved me from."

Harry flushed underneath him. "Turning into Lucius Jr. does sound like a horrible fate."

Draco laughed. "See, now you're getting it." He rested his pelvis on top of Harry's and entangled their legs together. He kissed him gently, but with all the force of his feelings behind it. Harry did always seem to be more of a kinetic learner.

He could feel the air pushed by the fluttering of Harry's eyelashes. "You make me sound like some altruistic savior. I'm...no longer pure."

He snorted. "After the things we've done, no one would ever call you that." That earned him a slap on his side. "Look, Harry, no one's asking you to be some pure, good saint. You're just some kid that shite things have happened to." He leaned down so his lips were by Harry's ear. "I love the wicked parts of you." The shiver that passed through the other boy was visible. "You're so beautifully imperfect."

"You're still too good for me." But Harry was laughing quietly and locking his legs around Draco's thighs.

He was loathe to call what they did something as sappy sounding as "making love," but there was really no other word for it. Their relationship had changed. This was not the all-consuming fire burning in their breast (or somewhere far lower). This was something as clean and cool as freshly fallen snow. Oh, sure, Draco's heart was pounding loudly in his ears as he exalted Harry's body, gave him offerings of hot tongue and adoring fingers. This was a ritual they had performed many times, but never before had he felt such grace.

With slow hands, he undid the buttons on Harry's shirt, lifting the white fabric away like a veil. His fingertips tripped over a beveled edge, and even in the dim light of early morning, he could see the deep gash running from his left shoulder to his right hip, puckered with incorrect healing. Like the sting from a slap, he flinched at the sudden surge of guilt. He remembered hurling an unfamiliar spell that had left a red line in this same spot. Fuck, he'd almost killed him, hadn't he? He'd always hated Voldemort and Umbridge for scarring Harry, and yet he too had left his mark.

Hands tilted his gaze up to Harry's. His words were small, like the flutter of wings, but Draco grasped onto them fiercely. "We both hurt each other." His thumb traced along Draco's cheekbones. He didn't know if one night of pleasure could make up for all of the pain that had passed between them, but he'd do his damnedest to try. He kissed the scar right over where Harry's heart beat a strong, steady pulse, basking in the clemency. Gently, he moved Harry's hands from his face to kiss their knuckles. Harry responded by leaning up to kiss him on the forehead.

Overcome, Draco buried his face in Harry's neck, his puffing breaths causing his lover to sigh and squirm pleasantly. He'd never felt this way before. There was no rush of blood in his ears, no unquenchable thirst parching his throat. His mind was completely at peace, and yet underneath his skin lurked a bright and powerful light. It did not push his hands on their trail, and it didn't hinder him, just filled him up to the brim. Latent energy with no direction. Like thousands of rivers all pooling together in this one spot. He could see all of eternity, all of the choices he had made, all that he would make. All of the little factors it took for him to reach this point. So many different ways for him to have gone on without ever knowing this love, for him to remain the shadow of a person he had once been.

He felt floored by this catharsis. He pulled himself up on shaking limbs to gape down at the wondrous creature beneath him. If he could have only one memory to hold on to for the rest of his life, he wanted it to be this moment. He almost wondered if he had really died in green last night, because he felt surrounded by it, drowning in verdancy. He wished he could lose himself in it. He almost missed Harry's lips moving. _"Legilimens."_

Suddenly all physical constraints were gone, and he bathed in the feeling of Harry's soul. It was all there, everything exposed to him. The vibrant green of his life, his magic; the swirls of darkness like storm clouds over a raging sea, a scar of lightning in the sky left behind by Voldemort, and the crisp and pure whiteness of his love, so bright it blinded him. He felt all of his guilt, his shame, his joy, and his courage. The lines between his mind and Harry's blurred, and they were not two people, but one, and nothing had ever felt so right.

And then he could feel some other force, a push and a pull, and he felt the cerulean blanket of family wash over them, the silver pride bolster them, and once all of the colors had blended together, he was standing on a mirror, the bright blue sky both above and below him. He would take a step forward, and underneath the ripples, upside down, Harry's foot would follow. They were two sides of the same coin, a mirror, dancing together like a swirl of snow.

With a gasping breath, the spell ended, rooting Draco firmly back in his body. He was so struck by his tangibility, so amazed at all of his physical senses that it was almost too much. But then all of his senses narrowed in on the feel of fingers pressing into his back. He zeroed in on the pressure, and finally seemed to gather himself enough to remember who he was and what exactly he had been doing. Harry looked up at him, and Draco could read everything behind those wonderful eyes of his. There was no greater act of true love than complete exposure and transparency. What Voldemort had taken forcefully and besmirched, Harry had given to him gladly, and Draco would be damned if he wouldn't exalt it appropriately. With renewed vigor, he mapped out every curve of Harry's body with his tongue, caressed every inch of skin with his hands.

Harry writhed and begged underneath him, prayed for benediction, and Draco granted him his wish. He pushed inside of him, while muttering into his ear "I love you," as many times as he needed to hear to understand how amazing he was, how grateful Draco was for his gift. They moved slowly in tandem, no longer two beings, but one cohesive unit, yin and yang coming together to form the energy of the universe. Harry was wrapped around him and Draco was inside of him, and he never wanted to be apart.

Tears fell from the tip of his nose to land on Harry's lips, only to be swiped away by a pink tongue. Every pull of his cock was glorious, and every soundless cry the push evoked in Harry was a blessing. He'd never felt so full, so complete.

"D-Draco, I love you, I love you, I'm coming. I'm--"

He interrupted his mantra with a kiss. "Me too. Together."

"Always."

And then his body was bathed in heavenly fire so hot it burned cold, and spots of white snow flecked his vision, and he thought this must be what dying is like. It brought a fresh wave of tears to his eyes.

Eventually, the intensity died out, leaving his limbs weak and trembling. He made a move to pull out, but the legs wrapped around his waist tightened. "No, I want to stay connected for a while longer."

"Harry, if I don't clean you out, you'll have a stomach ache." Not to mention they were outside, and any of their friends could walk out at any time.

Fingers tightened into his arms that would no doubt leave bruises. "No, I don't want to lose this feeling."

"Harry..." It was a struggle with how weak his limbs felt, but he leaned down to gently place a kiss on Harry's forehead, right over the lightning bolt scar. "You'll never lose it. It will always be there inside of you."

"Is that some sort of pun?"

He laughed. This time when he pulled out, Harry didn't try to stop him. The feeling was a horrible tease on his sensitive cock, and he wondered when they would have the time to do this again. The minute all of this was over, he was locking the both of them in a room to fuck for a week straight. With a grunt, he lowered himself to Harry's side, using his wand to clean them both up and get them presentable. The Warming Charm had worn off, but the afterglow and the closeness of their bodies was sufficient.

Just as he'd told Harry, the cathartic feeling of grace they had experienced together subsided, but remained somewhere under his skin. They lay on the ground, facing each other as the first rays of the sun broke out across the ocean. It was probably a beautiful sight, would make him wax poetic about hope and light in the darkness, but Draco couldn't turn his gaze away from Harry.  
  
Some terrible thought danced across the boy's eyes, and he could see his forehead wrinkle in concern. He felt hands crawl up to gently caress his cheeks. He knew what memory was playing in his head.

He brought his hands up to cover Harry's own on his face. "I'm here, Harry. I'm alive."

Paradoxically, Harry smiled. "I'm running out of loved ones left to lose."

"You're not going to lose anymore. No, Harry, you won't. We're going to kill him. And we're going to do it together. He'll never take anything from you ever again."

Now, his smile was more real. "Sweet-talker."

"It's tradition in most pure-blood families to destroy your enemies together on the fourth date."

Harry laughed, finally dropping his hands, but Draco didn't let them go. "But we've only ever had two dates." Not including all the snogging sessions, then.

"Well, you've already put out, so I figured we could jump ahead." That earned him a playful shove, which he took with good grace, since neither of them were crying anymore. He'd had enough of tears for the rest of his lifetime, thank you very much.

After a quiet moment, Harry asked, "So what do you think happened? Last night, I mean."

That was something he had been wondering about. "I have a theory. That wand Voldemort had... It was my father's."

"What?"

"The night before we broke into Gringotts, we had done some spying at my house, and I overheard my parents say that Voldemort had taken my father's wand as punishment. I don't know why he couldn't use his own."

"I think I know why. That night, when Voldemort was resurrected, we had a duel, and neither of our spells could overpower the other. He said it was because our wands are brothers." At Draco's confused look, he went on to explain, "They both have a feather from the same phoenix as their core. And because of that, we were equally matched, and so he couldn't kill me."

Apparently, Draco was going to have to read up more on wandlore with how much it had saved their butts so far. "So I guess that makes sense. My father's wand has dragon heartstring as its core. And well, I guess it was still loyal to my father, and it refused to kill his precious son." He blushed, ducking his head. Saying out loud, this all sounded so embarrassing and kitsch. "I mean, given the way our wands react to each other, I figured maybe that was reason."

Harry's face was furrowed in concentration. "That makes sense, but I guess your father is going to be out of a wand, tho... Hold on, you said the core was dragon heartstring?"

"Um, yeah."

"'The dragon's heart will not obey its false master.' It's the prophecy!"

He recalled the prophecy as Dumbledore had explained to him the night he told him that Harry had been kidnapped by Voldemort. He had asked over and over why. Why did Harry go to the Ministry? Why had he not waited for help? Why had Voldemort taken him? It had all been for a stupid prophecy that didn't even make any fucking sense. Of course, now that he thought about it. "'A soul poisoned by an apple...'" Harry must not have heard him for he was still going over the prophecy himself in excitement. Someday, he'd tell Harry about the Château de Melusine. For now, he'd let them have this moment in the soft light of dawn.

 

* * *

 

  
Eventually, the sun rose higher into the sky until true day had begun. The rays warmed Draco's chilled skin. They had ended up lying on their backs, staring up at the increasingly blue sky once the beautiful oranges and pinks had disappeared. Harry had dug into his pocket to pull out the little Snitch. It twitted over them, never leaving their field of vision, and they watched it peacefully.

"Is that a Snitch?" They looked up to see Ron and Hermione headed their way from the cottage.

They sat up to bid their friends good morning. "Yeah, Snape gave it to me before he...left."

Hermione, always keen to her friends' moods, frowned in sympathy. Ron, on the other hand, only looked befuddled. "Why would he give you a Snitch? He never struck me as a Quidditch fan, not to mention he was head of the opposing team."

Draco quirked his head to the side. Now that Ron mentioned it, a Snitch did seem a little odd. Although, everything about Snape that night had been odd. His godfather hadn't been one for sentimentality, so if he gave something to someone, it had a purpose.

"You don't suppose it's some sort of clue?" Hermione asked. "I mean, if he was truly on Dumbledore's side the whole time, then that means he wants to help you defeat Voldemort."

Harry snatched the little golden ball out of the air without even glancing at it. Showoff. He examined the ball closely, turning it all around. He looked up at them with a shrug.

Why a Snitch though? It was small, could easily fit in a pocket, sure, but it was just a ball. It could fly, he supposed, but why not use an owl if that was the purpose? There was something particular to Snitches that Snape would have found useful.

Ron's eyes lit up. "What if it's the flesh memory?"

"The what?" Harry asked.

Draco took this chance to explain. "Snitches memorize the flesh of the first person that touches them in order to settle any disputes in games. Haven't you ever noticed that they can only be handled with gloves on?"

Harry just shrugged. No, he wouldn't, would he?

Hermione clapped her hands together with her mouth in a big O. "So then this must be one of the Snitches that Harry has caught, and so it would only respond to his flesh." Her excitement faltered. "Wait, then isn't it supposed to do something?"

"Uh, normally it starts buzzing and glowing, y'know, to indicate it's the right person."

They all looked at the golden ball in Harry's hands. It certainly was doing none of those things. Draco thought over all of the Quidditch games he'd had with Harry. As annoying as it was to admit, most of the times Harry had caught the Snitch first without a shred of doubt. And clearly it wasn't his Snitch, as nothing had happened when he had carried it to Harry last night. Maybe the memory was very specific. Maybe it had to be touched in the exact same spot. "Harry, you caught the Snitch with your mouth during your first game, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

"Good memory, Draco," Hermione praised him.

He shrugged. "I just remember it, because I thought it was utter bullshite at the time." He still kind of did, to be honest. There weren't exactly any rules against catching the Snitch on the ground, or that it had to even be intentional, but it still seemed unfair.

Harry, the little shit, just smirked at him before placing the ball against his lips and giving it a big snog. He pulled back with a wet smack. The Snitch didn't buzz or glow. Instead, it snapped open to reveal a tiny glass phial with silvery wisps trapped inside. Draco didn't know what it was, but luckily, Harry explained for all of them. "It's a memory."

Ron said, "I think Fleur's got a pensieve."

They ran back inside the house, where Fleur and Bill were happily preparing breakfast. Their cozy, domestic scene was interrupted by four teenagers bursting in, all shouting demands for a pensieve, and the noise drew in an inquisitive Sirius from the living room. Fleur merely kissed her husband on the cheek and went into her closet to retrieve a small stone basin. "It's an 'eirloom from my late grandmuzer," Fleur said as she placed the bowl on the kitchen table. The pensieve, upon closer inspection, had worn runes carved into its sides, with sapphires and emeralds inlaid along the rim that had dulled with age. The pensieve contained a cloudy silver liquid so opaque that he could not see the bottom of the bowl. Harry opened up the tiny phial with a loud pop and poured its contents into the liquid, which now glowed with the silvery memory.

They all waited, looking at Harry in expectation. Draco had never actually seen someone use a pensieve before, so this would be an educational experience for him. Did they actually stick their entire head into the bowl? How could they breathe?

"Draco, I want you to come with me." Harry looked entirely serious.

Surely the man intended only for Harry to ever view these memories, but Draco was not so noble as to pass up a golden opportunity to peer into the mystery that was Severus Snape. He nodded and stepped beside Harry so that their shoulders brushed. When Harry dipped his head down, he followed suit.

To his surprise, he didn't even feel the liquid of the memory, only saw a watery blur before his vision focused into a clear image. He immediately recognized their surroundings as Hogwarts, although none of the students happily walking through its halls rung a bell. On one of the many benches sat two particular students that the memory focused on: a long, black haired boy with a timid air about him in Slytherin robes and a bright and bold Gryffindor girl with fiery red hair and unmistakable green eyes. Even without having ever seen her before, Draco knew immediately that this girl was Harry's mother. So then the boy must be his Uncle Severus.

"I just don't understand what purpose wormwood has in the potion. It's horribly bitter." The girl was holding her textbook close to her face as if that might make the words more understandable.

The boy, who had been subtly watching her from behind greasy bangs, answered, "It draws its nutrients from the moon rather than the sun, so it has many lunar qualities. This is what gives the potion the 'over the moon' looney effect."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, so that's why you have to sweeten it so much."

"I have this theory that adding some peppermint might counteract the excessive nose-tweaking, but I haven't had the opportunity to experiment." Even from behind his long hair, the shining enthusiasm of his black eyes was visible. Once he noticed that his friend was watching him with a fond smile, he hung his head so that the redness of his cheeks was obscured.

"You'd make a great teacher, Sev. You should be writing these textbooks instead."

"I don't think I'd make a very good teacher. I just like potions."

"I know. It's what would make you a great one. All of our teachers have lost their passion. It makes them boring. Like Binns." She wrinkled her nose. "But you would make Potions fun. And besides, I'd be the Charms professor, and we could see each other all the time." She bumped his shoulder playfully with her own.

His sheepishly returned smile was lost in the swirling of their liquid world as the next memory took shape.

A much older Snape than previously but still visibly younger than the one Draco had known hobbled through a dark sitting room, clutching his chest, although he couldn't find any visible wound. The only light in the room came from the bright moon filtering through a large window. At a noise, Snape suddenly straightened and whipped his head around like a frightened deer. "Dumbledore."

The old sorcerer, which Draco hadn't spotted previously in the shadows of the dark room, stepped into the moonlight, a grim countenance settled over his features, even as his hands were relaxed by his side. "You have some information for me?"

Snape swallowed loudly, nodding his head. "I heard the prophecy. I told him." No mincing words then.

Any humor that Dumbledore may have had disappeared. He'd never seen the old Headmaster look so icy. "What exactly?"

"'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.' Please, you have to protect her."

"Who?"

"Lily. He thinks its her son." Snape's face contorted in pain, and he clutched at his chest again. Draco knew he was struggling to keep his emotions close to his chest, but the wound was so large that he bled all over.

'He was in love with her,' Draco realized. So much of what his godfather had done made sense now. This whole time... All these years... It had all been for her. For his guilt.

"Just her? You don't care at all what happens to the boy or his father?"

Snape's silence was answer enough.

Dumbledore sneered in disgust before turning to gaze out the window at the silver moon. "And what will you give me in return?" Draco couldn't believe his ears. Was Dumbledore seriously refusing to protect the Potters without some form of compensation? Would he really let an innocent family die for his own greed?

Snape took a shuddering breath, desperation written on every tight line of his face. "Anything."

Dumbledore nodded at the man with a sad smile. No, no he wouldn't really let the family go unprotected. He was simply taking advantage of this man's weakness to exploit him, to turn him into a pawn in his chess game with a madman. Draco wished the man was alive so that he could give him a piece of his mind. No wonder his godfather had warned him about manipulation.

Something like hope shone in Snape's eyes, and it broke Draco's heart to see it. He knew how this story would end.

The world washed away in a current of liquid color, and then they were in the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore standing by his desk with one wrinkled hand holding his weight. His other hand was tucked into the layers of his silvery blue robe. He looked so old now, fifteen years later. He looked up when the door opened to let in Severus Snape. He moved his weight onto both of his feet, smiling politely. "Good afternoon, Severus. Have a seat."

Snape ignored the offered chair. "What did you want to talk about?"

"There is something you must know, Severus." Dumbledore's voice was clear as a bell, and uncharacteristically somber. "In light of these recent attempts upon my life, I fear I must pass this knowledge on before it's too late."

With a gasp, Draco recognized this conversation as the one he had eavesdropped on the day Hogwarts fell.

Snape snorted. "Really, sir, poisoned wine and a cursed necklace? Trivial attempts at most."

He pulled his hand out of his robes to reveal a blackened appendage as if he had been horribly burned. "You know I am not long for this world, Severus."

The shoulders under Snape's black robes stiffened. In one large step, he was by the headmaster's side, cradling his hand delicately in order to closely inspect it. "...It has spread?"

Dumbledore smiled politely as if they were discussing the weather. "While your help has greatly extended my life, Severus, I fear that the curse is more permanent than we had hoped. It's what I get for touching a mysterious necklace without casting the proper Detection Charms. It seems I'm getting rather senile in my old age."

Snape did not laugh at the joke.

"I suspect one of our young guests here is the culprit, and there will no doubt come a time when I will face him. When this time arises, I want you to be the one to kill me."

"No."

"Severus," Dumbledore sounded as if he were admonishing a pouting child. "If you ever truly loved her--"

"Don't." His nostrils flared.

"Your position at his side is crucial. You are Harry's last hope. You cannot jeopardize this by saving a dying man."

Snape held his breath, before letting it all out in a harsh bark. "You know what sorts of things the Dark Lord has ordered me to do in the name of his cause. You know how much I... And still you demand this of me? Have you ever considered that you ask too much, that you take too much for granted? Has it ever crossed your brilliant mind that I do not want to do this anymore?"

"Whether it has or has not does not change anything, Severus. It must be done. But I did not bring you here to rehash this argument."

Snape turned away, eyes as cold as ice. "You said you had something to tell me concerning Potter."

Dumbledore sighed, but let the matter drop. "Yes. I believe he is the one who has been trying to kill me."

Now he froze in a much different way. "...Do you think it's another personality? That the boy isn't really healed?"

"Yes. And no. Tell me, Severus, have you ever heard of a Horcrux?"

"No."

Dumbledore moved from around his desk, glancing at his Pensieve cabinet. "A rather dark piece of magic that Voldemort has grown fond of using. There is one time that he did so unknowingly. There is one time that he made a fatal mistake."

Snape's eyes widened. "...The night she died."

"Yes. On the night that Voldemort went to Godric's Hallow to kill Harry, and Lily cast herself between them, the curse rebounded. When that happened, a part of Voldemort's soul latched itself onto the only living thing it could find: Harry himself." The world itself seemed to be holding its breath. "There's a reason Harry can speak to snakes. There's a reason he can see into Voldemort's mind. A part of Voldemort lives inside him."

Snape didn't speak for a long time. "...So you believe that this part of the Dark Lord has taken control over the boy?"

"I fear that this might have been his plan all along. He must have learned of his unintentional Horcrux when he possessed the boy at the Department of Mysteries. When he could not get past Harry's mental defenses, he sent him to us so that we might do it for him."

"And then he would already be right where he wanted him. His greatest double agent."

Dumbledore nodded somberly. "You understand then, Severus, what must be done."

Comprehension morphed onto the professor's face, before it twisted into rage. "You've been raising him like a pig for slaughter. All this time, you told me that we had to protect him, only to kill him in the end? Then why did she have to die? What was the point of her sacrifice?"

The tirade bounced off of Dumbledore as if he had a Shield Charm up. Calmly, he moved to retrieve the Sorting Hat from a shelf on the wall. He stuck his hand inside, and then pulled out a shining sword with rubies encrusted on the hilt. Supporting the blade with both hands, he presented it to the still fuming Snape. "Harry will know what to do." When Snape did not take it, he sighed, and two tracks of tears fell onto his face. "You cannot choose one person over the entire world."

"Fucking watch me."

The cozy low light of the office was swept away by glittering snow. In a clearing of marshmallow capped trees, they stood on an eternally frozen pond as snow gently floated down around them. Snape, a black spot in the sea of white, crouched down in front of a crib. The man straightened his back, his arms carrying a heavy bundle. Draco didn't see what it was, until Snape turned around, and then the sight of it made him jump back in horror. In his arms was a fetus the size of a kneazle, covered in blood as if it had been extracted straight from the womb, and bearing a striking resemblance to Voldemort.

Then the memory changed again, although it took Draco a moment to realize that it truly was a different one judging by the fact that they were still standing on the frozen pond in Hogsmeade. This time, however, they were under the purple-orange sky of twilight, and without any creepy Voldemort fetuses.

Snape pointed his wand at the sword Dumbledore had forced upon him earlier, and it hovered over the ice, pointy end down. Suddenly, white-blue flames engulfed the blade and it slowly descended. The flames didn't melt the ice as it sunk into the pond. "Within the ice, I have hidden that which will defeat magic forbidden. From den of snakes, the apple freed, your heart's reflection will find what you need." The sword continued down until the ice completely obscured it.

The world swirled again, but this time, another scene didn't show up to take its place. All he could see was cloudy silver liquid, and he had the weird sensation of being pulled backwards. With a gasp, Draco straightened his back and breathed in air from the present.

The others had circled around them, concern evident on their faces, and Draco didn't really understand why until he looked at Harry. Tears were steadily and silently streaming down his cheeks, and Draco didn't even think before stepping closer and wiping them away gently. With a wet chuckle, Harry lifted his own hands to wipe at Draco's cheeks. He hadn't even realized he had been crying as well.

"That bad, huh?" Ron said tentatively.

Harry shook his head. "I know we what we have to do now." And to everyone's surprise, he pointed his wand at his head, muttering a spell before several items tumbled out of his hair. Magically shrunken and lying on the floor by Harry's feet were four distinct items: a diadem, a locket, a ring, and a golden cup. Harry picked them up and placed them on the table next to the pensieve. "I didn't want to lose them," he explained, cheeks reddening under everyone's stares. "And you always joked about how I could hide stuff in my hair."

"Those are all Horcruxes," Hermione said. "So you really were hunting them?"

Harry nodded, his bashfulness disappearing. "At the time, I had told myself that I was collecting them to reunite all the pieces of my-- or Voldemort's soul, so that I could become even stronger, but I think subconsciously I intended to destroy them once I had figured out how."

"But how did you find them?"

Harry didn't answer at first, and Draco knew why he felt hesitant to answer. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder, silently telling him that his fears were unfounded. "When Voldemort was using Legilimency on me... He was almost constantly in my head, and well," he scratched the back of his neck, "I think our minds might have melded at some point? Or maybe it had something to do with the Horcrux that was inside me? He had broke down any barrier in our link, and I could see more than his present. I knew what he knew. I felt what he felt." He turned away from them to stare at the innocuous objects on the table. "He's so afraid, all the time. Fear is all he knows, he breathes it, exudes it. It's all he knows how to give. He's never once known an ounce of love."

Sirius said, "You sound like you're sorry for him."

Harry looked at him in open honesty. "I _do_ pity him. I still have every intention of ending his miserable existence, it's just...sad, you know."

Only Saint Potter would feel pity for the crazed lunatic that tortured and orphaned him. He shook his head in fondness. But he understood. He had felt what Harry had felt. Voldemort really was a pitiable creature.

"So since you've only chosen now to reveal your little horde to us, I assume that means you've figured out a way to destroy Horcruxes?"

"We need the Sword of Gryffindor. Dumbledore wanted Snape to give it to me, and I think it might have that power."

Ron scrunched up his face. "But that doesn't make any sense. It's just a sword, I mean, a pretty badarse looking sword, but still a sword. If a mere blade could destroy a Horcrux, I think you would have done it by now, Harry."

Surprisingly, it was Bill who spoke next. Draco had quite forgotten about him and Fleur. "The Sword of Gryffindor is of goblin make."

Hermione nodded along. "Right, that's why Griphook wanted it from us, but--" Her eyes flew open wide, and her hair seemed to get even frizzier somehow. "It's goblin-made!"

"Um, yeah, Hermione, we just established that."

She glared at him. "Not that, you git. Goblin-made weapons absorb the powers of anything that they kill." Then she turned around swiftly. "Harry, you destroyed Tom Riddle's diary with venom from a basilisk fang, correct? And I would bet a fortune that that diary was a Horcrux. And what did you slay the basilisk with?"

They all cottoned on at the same time. "The sword!"

"Only problem is," Ron said, "the one in Bellatrix's vault was a fake. We don't know where the real sword is."

"Actually," Draco cut in. "Snape had it all along. He's hidden it inside the frozen pond at Hogsmeade."

Hermione stopped just short of throwing her face into her hands. "You mean the pond of impenetrable ice?"

"Oh?" Fleur quirked. "I 'ave not 'eard of zis pond."

He nodded. "Except Snape seemed to find a way to get it in there as if it were a ghost. There's a riddle, too: 'Within the ice, I have hidden that which will defeat magic forbidden. From den of snakes, the apple freed, your heart's reflection will find what you need."

"A riddle?" Ron looked endearingly perplexed and disheartened. "That sounds more like Dumbledore's thing."

Sirius laughed at that.

Hermione, on the other hand, smiled as her hands moved into her thinking pose. "With riddles like these, it's best to tackle them in bits. The first part is rather obvious: the sword. The second part, though... Could den of snakes be referring to Slytherin?"

"Or maybe it means Voldemort's lair?" Ron suggested.

"And this talk of an apple? An apple within a den of snakes? That has certain Biblical context, but--"

"I know what it means," Draco's voice wasn't raised, and yet it left an ominous silence ringing behind it. The combination of snakes and apples was something that only him and Snape would understand. Snape must have known that he would be by Harry's side to help him solve the riddle. "It's referring to Harry."

"Me?" Harry blinked owlishly.

His gums started hurting, and he realized belatedly that he had been painfully clenching his teeth. "When Snape and I found you, you were in a literal bed of snakes, a poisoned apple in your hand." He didn't like to think of that time.

"Okay," Hermione began slowly. "So then what is 'your heart's reflection'? Maybe it's something we will see in the ice?"

Draco shook his head. "The ice isn't reflective; it's cloudy."

"Maybe it's more metaphorical?" Bill suggested.

"A reflection of your heart," Hermione mused. "Your inner desires..."

Something about the word lit up Harry's face. "The Mirror of Erised. It reflects your heart's desire."

"But that's nowhere near Hogsmeade, I think. Dumbledore never actually told us where he moved it to. We could search for days and never find it, if it's even still in Hogwarts."

"Not to mention that Snape hid the sword after he killed Dumbledore," Draco said. "He had no time to ask him where he put the mirror."

They fell silent, stumped. Harry crossed his arms, drumming his fingers anxiously. Somewhere, a clock chimed the hour. Sirius was the first to break the tense silence. "Maybe if we visit the pond, an idea will come?"

Ron's stomach chose that exact moment to growl with all the ferocity of a lion. With reddened cheeks, he said, "Perhaps after breakfast?"

 

* * *

 

  
The second Sirius Apparated them into Hogsmeade, a high-pitched shriek rent through the air. Just as he pulled them behind a stack of nearby barrels, the loud cracks of Apparition alerted them to the arrival of some Death Eaters, barely discernible under the loud wailing of a Caterwauling Charm. He muttered something under his breath before tapping each of them with his wand. Well, tap was a bit of a delicate word. In his urgency, he practically struck them all in the head. Harry's cry of pain sounded just as the Caterwauling Charm was silenced. The crunch of feet on dirt road drew steadily closer to their hiding spot.

Hermione, shooting an annoyed glance, whispered _"Silencio,"_ behind her hand, waving her wand around all of them, focusing especially on their feet. She hastily gestured for them to move, just as a bald man with a nasty scar on the side of his face stepped into view, his wand pointing every which way. They tiptoed as fast as they could, and with good timing too, for just as they had all moved out of the way, the Death Eater pointed his wand just where they had been and said _"Revelio."_ Since they had moved out of range, nothing happened.

With the sounds of their steps silenced, they ran out of Hogsmeade and into the surrounding forest. Draco knew the way to the pond best, and so he led their ragtag group, dancing past trees as if he were a centaur. At their terrified speed, they reached the frozen pond in short time. With the wall of trees blocking their view and any noise from the village, they finally felt safe enough to remove their spells.

Still, when Ron did speak, it was in whisper. "Bloody hell, they were waiting for us. It was a trap."

"Well, it sort of makes sense," Harry panted, hands on his knees. "Draco and I had just fought Voldemort at Hogwarts last night. Of course they would take precautions in case we returned."

Sirius looked grim. "That means we only have a limited amount of time before they start searching outside of the village." He turned to look at Harry. "What do you think we should do? If we choose to leave now, the sword will still be safe. We can figure out the riddle and come back another time."

Harry shook his head, causing his glasses to slip down his nose slightly. "We can't waste any more time. After Gringotts, Voldemort knows that we're hunting down his Horcruxes. That's probably why he even went to Hogwarts in the first place: to check if the diadem was still there. I wager he's going around checking every hiding spot."

"I bet he's going ballistic," Hermione winced.

"Yeah, probably."

"Wait, don't you know? Every other time he's gotten mad, you could feel it."

"I'm not a Horcrux anymore." He smiled.

"What?"

Draco put his hand on Harry's arm, who nodded in silent understanding. "I can explain everything later. Right now, we need to get that sword."

They walked over to the pond, staring down at it. Just as he had said before, the surface on the ice had been so cut up by skates, that even if it weren't white, any chance of seeing through it was slim, especially with the weak rays of the cloudy morning sun shining down. He looked up at the darkening clouds. A storm was coming.

"'Within the ice, I have hidden that which will defeat magic forbidden. From den of snakes, the apple freed, your heart's reflection will find what you need,'" Hermione recited for them all.

He remembered the foreign memory, the silvery blue flames that had engulfed the sword. Uncle Severus had muttered no incantation nor waved his wand in any particular way other than to guide the sword down gently. The riddle itself felt like an incantation, but Draco didn't know of any spells that rhymed so much.

"'Your heart's reflection,'" Harry muttered, staring at his wand as if it might provide the answers.

"Maybe it doesn't mean heart as in desire," Hermione said, pacing. "In some cultures, the word for mind and heart are the same. It means your core, your inner self."

"I've got it!" Harry dashed over to him in a single step. "Draco, trade ya."

"What?" he said, even as Harry plucked his wand from his hand to replace it with Harry's own.

Harry didn't answer, only aiming the hawthorn wand at the pond and saying, _"Expecto Patronum."_

As with every time Harry conjured his Patronus, it caused everyone to stumble backwards in awe. The huge dragon burst forth, silvery wings spread out and glowing so bright that there was no way the Death Eaters didn't notice. It looped in the air before plummeting towards the pond nose first. Instead of bursting into contact with the frozen pond or even passing right through it, it burned a hole in the ice. Maybe burned wasn't the correct word, because no steam arose. It was as if the ice that the dragon had touched simply ceased to exist. The white glow alerted them to the return of the dragon before they ever saw its pointed snout emerge with a familiar looking blade in its jaws. The Patronus, completely solid, landed right before Harry soundlessly, before dipping its long neck for Harry to retrieve the sword.

The boy started laughing, eyes large in surprise like the rest of them. "I can't believe that worked. I wasn't sure I could do it a second time."

Draco's heart stopped. There was something ethereal about Harry in that moment, bathed in the white glow of his Patronus (the representation of his love for _Draco)._ He knew this feeling creeping up his arms like lightning dances across the sky. He had felt it just a few hours ago. The way Harry had looked riding that hippogriff, the way he beamed after outflying a dragon... Those were but a fraction of how amazingly powerful Harry looked at that moment. He had no doubt that he was the most powerful wizard alive right now, and Draco had never been more enthralled. What he wouldn't give to take this boy right there on the grass.

"Harry, the Horcruxes," Sirius, always ruining his mood, reminded all of them. Trust him to be the voice of reason when Draco's entire body was on fire.

"Oh, right." Sadly, the silver dragon faded away, leaving them all in the dim light of the heavy clouds. Harry pulled out the dark objects from his pocket and returned them to their normal size. "So, er, I guess I get the honors?" He held the sword up in one hand. It was a pretty big sword.

"I think you've deserved it," Sirius said.

Harry smiled, grabbed the hilt with both hands (Merlin's beard, how was he even more turned on?) before bringing the blade down on the locket. It shrieked like a banshee, and a horrible black smoke oozed out of it like blood, before disappearing altogether. Spurred on by its death throes, Harry immediately swung at the diadem and then the ring, each one screaming and bleeding darkness. "Take this you arsehole!" With a flash of lightning and thunder, the cup was smashed in twain, and the piece of Voldemort's soul within died.

His chest heaving, Harry looked up at each of them, the end of the blade slowly lowering as his arms lost strength. "Well, that was therapeutic."

Draco opened his mouth to utter some witty line, but then screams of a very human type traveled up from Hogsmeade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the home stretch, my lovely readers.


	16. The Battle of Hogsmeade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...To Die For - The Lion King   
>  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8vCNn6vOVQ0

A long branch of lightning cracked down somewhere nearby, lighting up the sky and the fog rolling up from down the hill. Rain fell on them, starting off with light drops before pounding against their heads. The clouds had darkened to an almost pitch black, and completely covered the sky so that it almost felt as if it were suddenly nighttime. There was no hesitation from Harry. As soon as he heard the screams, he darted through the forest, back towards the village.

"Harry!" They chased after him. Screams or no, Death Eaters were currently searching the village for him.

The closer they got to Hogsmeade, the colder Draco felt. At first, he had thought it was dread, but when the rain around him froze, he began to suspect something much more sinister. They broke through the trees, and skidded to a stop. The entire village was encased in a thick fog, lit up from behind by the occasional strike of lightning, and swirling all around were dark silhouettes. Another scream sounded from within, and Harry took off. Dammit! They had no choice now but to go inside.

Once inside, the fog was not nearly as thick as Draco had thought. He couldn't see into the distance, but he could make out the figures of people running around like headless chickens. A woman bumped into him, nearly knocking him over. He steadied her by her shoulders, surprised to find that it was Madam Rosmerta, completely hysterical and tight golden curls wild.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"Timothy... I'm so sorry." Her sobbing made no sense. Who was Timothy?

"Madam Rosmerta, what's going on?"

That seemed to knock some amount of sense into her, because she finally looked him in the eye for the first time. He wished she hadn't. "Dementors."

As if their name summoned them, a cloaked head swooped down, causing a terrified shriek from the woman in his hands. The edges of his vision darkened, and he felt the press of water on his lungs. He tried to breath, but there was only lake water everywhere--

But then a silvery otter rammed into the Dementor's side, sending it flying. "Draco!" Hermione was by his side, and the warmth of her touch healed him somewhat. Coming back to his senses, he looked around, realizing that the fog had separated them from the rest of the group. "There's a whole army of Dementors. I think Voldemort sent them to get Harry. Come on, we have to find him."

He let her pull him deeper into the village. It was chaos. People were running around screaming, while Dementors chased after them. The occasional glow of a Patronus would signal someone fighting back, but the overwhelming number of the creatures quickly snuffed them out. The rain had turned into hail, pelting them with tiny chips of ice. Draco cast a Warming Charm over himself, but it was too weak to battle this supernatural cold.

A silver goat nearly ran them over on its way to tackle a Dementor headed towards them. Draco turned to find out who it came from, but then a swarm of black cloaks blocked their view. _"Expecto Patronum!"_ The silver butterfly flitted towards the Dementors, and to his surprise, actually sent them running (or, well, flying). They dashed over to help whatever poor soul had been attacked. Hermione gasped.

It was Aberforth, lying motionless on the ground, staring up at nothing, just like Pettigrew and Umbridge. He was too late. Again. It felt like an omen. At the top of his lungs, he shouted "Harry!" It echoed through the village, but he was only answered by thunder. "Harry!"

Another Dementor rushed in, but Hermione sent it packing. Then another. Then another. Her arms were quivering, the tip of her wand shaking. They backed up, the wall of a building behind them. "D-Draco."

He could feel it too, the hope being sucked out of him. The world was getting darker, and the despair stronger, but he couldn't let that stop him. He had to find Harry. He promised him that he would always save him from the darkness. He remembered his dream, where Harry had been chained to the bottom of the lake, surrounded by darkness. But Draco... He had been the light.

Five Dementors had boxed them in, their skeletal hands stretching towards them. Draco thought of Harry and pointed his wand. _"Expecto Patronum!"_ His butterfly burst forth, shining so brightly that it looked like a tiny ball of light. Waves of silvery light pulsed out from it, pushing the Dementors away, and even then kept going. His butterfly floated through the town, and he and Hermione followed it. As it swept down the streets, its shockwaves of light pushed back the Dementors, and with them, the fog, until they had reached the edge of the village. He stood at the edge of the town, his wand pointing directly at what must have been an entire prison's worth of Dementors blotting out the sky. They tried to push forward, but another pulse from his tiny butterfly sent them hurtling backwards. With a swing of his arm, the butterfly charged, sending the black army away and out of sight.

Warmth seeped back into his bones, and Draco panted heavily as his butterfly flapped its wings one last time before vanishing. The rain still continued, but it had melted back into droplets. He turned around to find the entire village of Hogsmeade gaping at him. Then they erupted into loud cheers, some even going so far as to throw their hats into the air in victory. Draco didn't pay any attention to them, because suddenly Harry was running towards him. He dropped the sword in his hands just before he pulled Draco in for an intense kiss.

All too suddenly, he pulled back, eyes glittering with joy. "You defeated an entire army of Dementors!"

Draco flushed under the praise, smiling more at Harry's compliment than the entire village's worth of cheers. Then Harry pulled his face even closer, and whispered, "Do you know how incredibly hot that was?" Suddenly Draco felt very warm indeed.

"Ok, break it up, you two." He had half a mind to kick Weasley in the shins, but he supposed now, in front of the entire village, was not a good time to shag Harry.

Reluctantly, he stepped away from his better half. Sirius was bounding towards them, a lopsided grin on his face, and he half expected the man to give him a thumbs up.

Draco cleared his throat with red cheeks. "Right. I'm sure the Dementors were only the first wave. Now that they are safely out of the way, there's nothing to hold back the Death Eaters."

"He certainly didn't seem like he was holding anything back," Sirius commented. "I thought he wanted you _alive."_

The color drained from Harry's cheeks. "Maybe he was hoping it would suck out my soul, but leave his. Either way, he knows that he only has one Horcrux left, and he's desperate to stop us."

"What's the last Horcrux?" Ron asked.

"His precious snake, Nagini."

Sirius bent down to the ground to pick up the Sword of Gryffindor. "Leave that to me."

"But there's no way he's going to let Nagini out of his sight," Hermione objected.

"Then it's up to Harry and Draco to separate them." He looked each of them in the eye. "We all know it's your destiny, Harry."

He nodded in determination. Draco grabbed his hand, drawing his attention. "And we'll do it together." Harry smiled back at them, but then his mouth was twisted in pain.

Everyone was. A foreign entity was assaulting his brain, pushing its way through his skull, and words that were pitched much higher than his own hissed directly into his head.

_Harry... Potter..._

Merlin, it was like someone was carving the words directly onto his brain.

_How many more people must die for you?_

Someone screamed, but he was too busy trying to claw the voice out of his own head to notice who.

_I mourn each drop of magical blood spilt. Surrender yourself to me, and I will pull back my forces. Refuse, and I will slaughter every single man, woman, and child._

He fell to his knees, pulling at his hair.

_You have thirty minutes._

He sighed in relief as the foreign entity retreated. How insanely powerful was this monster that he could project his voice directly into the minds of an entire village miles away? And he thought two sixteen-year-old boys could defeat him?

A loud crack drew his attention over to the villagers. One of them, someone he didn't recognize, turned on his heel and Disapparated. Then another. And another, until about half of them had vanished.

"Cowards," Ron cursed under his breath beside him. Draco couldn't say he blamed them.

They waited a while once the cracks had stopped, those that remained, did so with feet planted firmly on the wet ground. One of them stepped forward. It was Madam Rosmerta.

"You're not going to leave?" Harry asked her.

"Those bastards killed Aberforth. No one attacks my town and gets away with it." Behind her were many nods and hollers of agreement. "What do you need?"

"All the help we can get, honestly."

She nodded. "We'll try to set up some defenses." They were no Aurors, no soldiers. These were simple, peaceful townsfolk. She returned to the others and began ordering them about like a general.

"We'll need reinforcements," Sirius said. "I'll contact Bill, he can send Dobby to round up the Order." With a wave of his wand, a silver wolf shot off into the distance.

"We've got to think up a plan," Ron said.

"Um, kill the snake and then Voldemort?" Draco shrugged.

Ron looked at him as if he were an idiot, which was the most insulting thing he had ever suffered. Right behind being turned into a ferret. "We're completely outnumbered, even with the Order members."

"Well, what do you suggest we do?"

"If we could find some way to isolate Voldemort, then at least you two won't have to worry about interference..."

"We grab him and Apparate somewhere else?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "We fight him him here. If both of us should fail, we can't let him get away."

"But the prophecy--" Hermione began.

"Sod the prophecy!" He grabbed each of their hands. "If Draco and I should die, then it's up to you two to kill him. Don't hold anything back."

Hesitantly, they both nodded.

Feeling like the air was too heavy, he slapped Ron on the back. "Don't worry. I'll never let it get to that point."

Hermione smiled at him, putting her hand on his arm, complete faith in her eyes. He wondered at the swell of affection for this girl that he felt rise up within him. He was an only child, and thus had never had to suffer siblings, but if they were anything like Hermione Granger, he supposed he wouldn't mind them so much. He owed a lot of things to her, he supposed.

Her hand fell and the moment was gone. She turned to look down the hill where Hogwarts stood in the grey distance. The rain was still coming down hard. Maybe one of the shops around here would have an umbrella. She squinted in the distance, before rummaging in her beaded purse. She pulled out a battered pair of Omnioculars, which she put up to her face. Draco waited while she scanned the distance, using her finger to adjust the settings.

With a gasp, she pulled the device away from her head. "He's not waiting at all. There's an army marching up the hill right this second."

"He must know you wouldn't surrender. This was all a ploy to lower our guard."

"How many?" Ron asked.

"I don't know." She peered through the Omnioculars again. "But he's got more than just Death Eaters with him. There's giants and--" There was a loud crack of lightning, followed by an ominous howl. "...werewolves."

The tension radiated off of Sirius like heat from a flame, and his knuckles were white on the hilt of the sword.

Ron didn't look much better. "What should we do? There's no way we're ready to take on an army of this size."

Harry stared down the hill. "We meet them." That sounded like a colossally bad idea, but Draco couldn't think of another scheme. They had to face Voldemort, and there was no way he was going to dismiss his army nicely.

They warned the townsfolk, who chose to stand behind Harry to meet the approaching Death Eaters. Draco wondered if this was how all soldiers felt before battle, so wound up that they just might snap. He felt that he just might when a peek of the tops of their heads crested his view.

They stood there, jut outside of the quaint little village, two opposing forces. The army of dark men and creatures behind Voldemort seemed endless, but that just might be the giants blocking his view. He realized now what Hagrid had meant about his half-brother falling on the shorter side. These monsters towered over the tops of the forest, with trunks of entire trees in their hands like clubs. The werewolves were not completely transformed, as it wasn't truly night and there was no full moon, but they seemed more wolfish than normal, their sharp teeth bared and claws protruding from their fingers. Draco had no doubt they would be deadly even without their magic. Perhaps this storm had been conjured by Voldemort himself, to protect his dark creatures from the light of day. The rain had slowed to a trickle as opposed to the deluge it had been before. The sky still looked threatening though.

Voldemort took a single step forward, his robes trailing through the mud, Nagini at his side. Behind him, Draco saw his parents, white as a ghost, trying their best impression of marble statues. Their silver eyes instantly locked onto him, and he found himself unable to look away. To his relief, they appeared unharmed, though terrified.

The Dark Lord's red eyes ran over each of them individually, and Draco tried his best to shield his mind in case he wanted to try some Legilimency. The man must be part boggart or something, because Draco had never been so terrified in his life. He could still hear his mother's screams...

"Draco Malfoy," the man's high-pitched voice hissed at him from across the stretch of land. "I believe it was you who sent away my army of Dementors..." He paused for dramatic effect before leering at him. "...with a butterfly."

The Death Eaters, excepting his parents, all cackled like mad.

"It's not the size that matters, but how you use it." Merlin's beard, he couldn't believe he had just made a dick joke at Voldemort. Terror must have addled his mind. He just needed to remember the look on his face when the wand in his skeletal hand had exploded and knocked him off of the tower. He was not infallible. He was not a god.

The laughter died, and Voldemort's smile faded. "The Malfoy line never fails to disappoint me." Beside him, his father flinched. But his mother... His mother was looking back and forth between her son and her master with widening eyes. "I think it's time we end it." He pulled forth a new wand, white as bone, and pointed it directly at him. Draco didn't even have time to process what had just happened.

And neither did Voldemort.

_"Avada--" "Expelliarmus!"_

With a spark of red light, the bone-white wand flew out of Voldemort's hand and fell into the mud with a loud splash that seemed to echo through the entire valley. Everyone stared in shock at Narcissa Malfoy with her wand pointed incriminatingly at Voldemort. Even she looked shocked at what she had done, her arm trembling as much as her husband beside her. Then she said the same words she had said to him on the day Draco had been supposed to take the Dark Mark, "Not my son."

With a snarl, Voldemort summoned his wand to his hand, and immediately cast the Killing Curse at her, but it was swiftly deflected by Lucius Malfoy, standing in front of his wife.

Then all hell broke loose.

The army behind Voldemort surged forward, and in response, the villagers and Draco's friends threw up their wands. The forward most giant swung its club down, luckily missing everyone, but the moment it made contact with the ground, the world shook with the force of it, causing everyone to stumble. Voldemort was still trying to advance on him, but his parents stood firmly in front of him, countering and deflecting all of the spells he sent their way.

He heard loud cracks echoing from different places, surprised he could hear them over the cracks of thunder in the sky. He spotted Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt appear somewhere to his left and send Voldemort flying back. And then he saw Bill Weasley and Fleur appear to his right, instantly hurling Stunners at the nearest Death Eaters. All around, members of the Order of the Phoenix Apparated onto the battlefield, wands firing.

Two more aurors in their crimson robes appeared in the spot Voldemort had just been, giving him a few seconds of safety to pull his parents into a hug. They hugged him back just as tightly, and he could feel his father's warm tears on his shoulder, just as his mother whispered into his ear, "Oh, my precious little dragon."

He saw it, over her shoulder. Voldemort may have been blasted away, but his snake remained, and it coiled tightly in the mud, it's yellow eyes locked with his. Then it sprung, its jaws wide open and venomous fangs bared. Draco pushed his parents to the side, rolling the three of them in the mud, but out of the way of the viper's strike. They struggled to stand up, but their feet kept slipping in the muck beneath them, and already Nagini was readying another strike for them.

 _"Reducto!"_ A blue jet of light hit the snake, knocking it over, but otherwise causing no harm. Harry ran over to help Draco to his feet, but never took his eyes off of their enemy. "Damn, should have known he'd put some protection spells on her." Then he helped Draco's parents up awkwardly. "Er, hello there, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy."

"Potter," Lucius said, trying desperately to move his muddied long hair out of his face.

That was all the time they had to exchange pleasantries before a Death Eater took notice of them and began to attack. Harry quickly petrified him, but then another took his place. Draco used a Tripping Jinx to send one Death Eater hurtling into another, and Harry used Stunners, but he knew his parents weren't playing around when his mother lit a man on fire, and his father froze a woman and then exploded her into pieces. He was just glad no one on their side mistook them for the enemy.

"Draco!" He must have been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed a giant bloody spider coming out of nowhere. Luckily, Harry sent it flying with a bright light, but three more took its place. In fact, he noticed a whole swarm of them surging out from the forest.

He hit some with an _"Arania Exumai",_ but there were so many. One of them launched itself at Draco. Before he even had time to raise his wand in defense, it was crushed under the hoof of a towering centaur. It whinnied loudly before stomping on some more and firing arrows at the ones further away. The centaurs must have heard the commotion and decided to defend their forest.

Draco didn't wait to find out, grabbing Harry by the hand and running. They didn't get very far, before he noticed one of the giants hurl a giant chunk of rock at them. He tried to skid to a stop and change direction but his feet slipped in the mud. Sod this bloody rain! Suddenly a little bald head wearing a poorly knit cap appeared in front of them and snapped his tiny fingers. The boulder vanished. The house-elf turned around with a bright smile. "Dobby has come to save Harry Potter. Dobby has brought reinforcements."

"What?"

The little elf pointed down the hill. Draco could just make out brightly colored spells headed towards the other end of the dark army, and flashes of small elves popping in and out of existence all around the battlefield. That must be the inhabitants of Hogwarts. They had come out to fight. Maybe they had a fighting chance.

He looked over at Harry, they knew what they had to do. He took a step forward, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned around to find his father, looking crazed. "Draco, we have to leave."

His mother was beside him. "We have to get away before the Dark Lord returns."

"I can't."

"Draco, this is too dangerous--"

"I can't leave Harry alone. You two go find someplace safe. I'll find you." He wouldn't think them cowards. In fact, he'd be relieved if he didn't have to worry about them as well as Harry.

"Draco," His father began in that stubborn voice, but his mother pulled his hand off of Draco's arm.

"No, Lucius, let's go."

"But he's our son!"

"And he _will_ return to us." She said this last with a glare at him. "But we are only holding him back."

His father looked like he were about to arguing, before snarling, and pulling his wife into a turn. They Disapparated, and Draco felt calmer. Harry looked him in the eye. Right. They had to find Voldemort, and pray that Sirius had done his job.

They ran through the battle, side-by-side, protecting each other's backs. The hill was lit up with colorful spells. Most of the time, Draco just put up as large of a Shield Charm as he could around Harry, unable to find where the spells were coming from. They passed by Tonks, and Draco saw her fall to an unmistakable green spell, but he didn't let himself linger unless they both suffered the same fate.

They must have gotten pretty deep into the fighting, because Draco recognized some of the teachers from Hogwarts doing their best to protect a stubborn group of kids behind them. "This is no place for children," Professor McGonnagal shouted at the top of her lungs while directing a group of about fifteen statues to block the pathway of a pack of werewolves.

"Get back to your dorms now!" Professor Flitwick shouted as he spelled a chunk of the ground to shoot up, forming a natural barrier, but it was quickly blasted to pieces.

"No," a boy he recognized as Longbottom, even with the blood trailing down his face. "We want to protect Hogwarts too!" Then, he sent a Stunner at a werewolf that had tried to catch Professor Sinistra unawares.

Their argument was interrupted by a small giant bounding through their little group. "HAGGER?" Grawp, still as hideous and terrifying as Draco remembered him, kicked an acromantula on its lumbering way. The spider flew past Draco, its hairy legs just barely grazing him.

Then there was a scream, and all heads swiveled to where Fenrir Greyback, notorious child-eating werewolf, had a terrified Lavender by the back of her collar, but then an orange spell caused him to drop her and fall over dead. Behind Greyback was Moody, magical eye swiveling into the back of his head. With a stomp of his staff, a Death Eater that had been moving to attack him from behind was sent hurtling into the air to be caught in the talons of a familiar looking hippogriff. Wait, how did Buckbeak get here?

Then he felt heat at his back, and Draco whirled around to see a giant dragon made entirely of Fiendfyre rear up, coming out of the wand of Mr. Goyle, Greg's father. Even with the rain falling on it, the flames burned brightly.

A chorus of feminine yells drew everyone's attention to where Luna Lovegood rode on the back of a pure white unicorn, beside her the Weaslette, Johnson, and Chang led the charge of a number of unicorns. The one that Luna rode upon, bent its head down to impale Goyle Sr. on its horn. At the sight of that, his two companions turned tail and fled. The Fiendfyre dragon died out.

"Bloody hell," Harry breathed beside him, and he found he agreed. Girls were terrifying.

Speaking of terrifying girls, Hermione bounded down the slippery slope towards them, her hair caked in blood and hanging down to her shoulders, and face wet. Then again, everyone's was. "Harry! Have you seen Ron?"

"No."

She gave a heart-wrenching sob, her hand running through her sopping hair, looking around frantically. "Bellatrix took him. I don't know where she went. She could be doing anything to him."

Harry's face paled. Even though they had just told them to keep going should Harry and he die, but he could tell that their objective had suddenly changed. He wanted to argue with Harry that stuff like this was going to keep happening unless they defeated Voldemort, but Hermione shrieked, and pushed all of them down to the ground. He saw a long green line sail over his head. Nagini had returned.

Unfortunately, they didn't have her agility, and no time to even pull up their wands in defense, before she struck again.

"GET AWAY FROM MY GODSON!" Everything happened in slow-motion. Sirius lunged out of nowhere, sword glinting with a flash of lightning, before his arms swung around his torso, and chopped the head of the snake clean off in a spray of red blood. He landed with a splash, long black mane wild around his face, and even knowing that this man was on their side, Draco quivered in fear.

He ran over to Harry, snake blood all over his face. "Harry, are you alright? Did she bite you?"

Harry nodded dumbly. "That was brilliant."

Sirius smiled, his teeth bright in the darkness. "I told you to leave it to me." He pulled them all up to their feet.

A familiar scream interrupted their conversation, and they all turned to see Bellatrix Lestrange cackling madly as a body twitched in pain beneath her.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed, running towards him and firing spells at Bellatrix, who only laughed as she dissolved into smoke and the spells went straight through her.

Draco already readied his wand to defend Harry, but was startled by a vicious shout next to him. "BELLATRIX!" Sirius charged forward sword raised in the air. In her smoke form, she easily dodged all of his attacks. She even went so far as to send another wave of the Cruciatus Curse at Ron, which hit Hermione too by proxy.

"Ron!" Harry shouted, about to run towards his friend but a yellow spell that Draco only just deflected in time halted him. They turned around to face the new contender.

A man with long black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail with a pointed beard leered at them. "Having fun, Bella?" he called out to her answer cackle. Rodolphus Lestrange had come to play with his wife.

But suddenly, Bellatrix's laughter was cut off, and her body, now solid, rolled onto the ground. Mrs. Weasley ran forward, her wand pointed right at her. "Get away from my kids!" She threw another spell at Bellatrix who had only just managed to block it.

Rodolphus moved to protect her, but Draco threw a Stunner that just barely missed him. "Nu-uh. Your opponent is us." As if on cue, Harry yelled _"Petrificus Totalus!"_

Rodolphus blocked the spell, snarling. "You won't beat me with such low-level spells."

"Oh really?" Then, at the same time, _"Expelliarmus!"_ Two bolts of red light hit the Death Eater, sending his wand flying somewhere into the mayhem.

Then, with a smile, Harry shouted _"Flipendo!"_ Rodolphus flew backwards, crashing into a couple of werewolves, who were then unknowingly crushed by the foot of a charging giant. Draco winced.

"Sirius!" Draco turned around at Mrs. Weasley's shout, but it was not one of concern. Her and Sirius had been dueling Bellatrix together, although Sirius still had the sword in one hand, while also using his wand. Bellatrix lunged, but Mrs. Weasley hit her with some kind of spell that froze her completely.

Sirius walked up to her frozen form. "This is for Remus, you bitch." And then he lopped her head off in one clean cut. He was getting scarily good at that.

Both pieces of Bellatrix fell to the floor, shattering into thousands of glittering pieces. Draco really hoped those would never melt.

They ran over to Ron, who was curled up in Hermione's lap, bleeding from his ears. She was crying and digging around in her purse. She pulled out a small dropper and began furiously dropping as much of the liquid inside all over his head. On contact, a green vapor rose up, and the bleeding stopped. Draco realized that it was essence of dittany. Clever witch.

"Is he going to be okay?" Harry asked, kneeling beside his friend.

"I-I don't know," Hermione's quivering seemed to have ceased a little with Ron's easy breathing. "He needs St. Mungo's."

"Then take him there."

"But Harry--"

"Oh, my Ronnie," Mrs. Weasley fell to his side. "I'll take him. You kids grab onto me, and we'll get out of here."

"No," Hermione said with her back completely straight. "Take Ron and go. I'm going to stay and fight."

"But you're just children!"

"And we have a job to do," Harry said. "Voldemort's still alive."

She looked at all of them with tears in her eyes before looking up at Sirius standing behind them. With one last sad look, she Apparated away, taking Ron with her.

They took a moment to breathe, and Draco tried to formulate their next plan of action. Voldemort was in the battlefield somewhere--

A furious shriek caused them all to turn around. Lord Voldemort stood over the corpse of his beloved Nagini. His serpentine face was contorted in rage, his lipless mouth pulled back to reveal gnashing pointed teeth. He moved in a way Draco remembered seeing Harry do once at Gringotts, and he threw his shield up instantly. Harry must have sensed the impending doom as well, because he crouched in close beside him, adding the strength of his wand to the shield as well. Sirius, however, hadn't been quick enough.

Voldemort thrust his wand up into the air above him, and blue lightning reached down from the sky and struck him, but instead of staying in his body and electrocuting him, the energy was directed outwards in branching bolts. It hit anyone in the area indiscriminately, killing friend and foe alike. It bounced off of their Shield Charm, leaving a sizzling crack of static in its wake. But Sirius, he was struck right in the chest and flung backwards. Harry screamed, but Draco kept him safely behind the Shield.

Just as soon as it arrived, the lightning disappeared, leaving bright spots dancing in Draco's vision. The rain had stopped, but the heavy grey clouds remained. All around Voldemort in a wide radius was a sea of corpses, including one of the giants even. All, except for Harry and Draco, who stood up now that their Shield Charm had worn off. He looked directly at them. "Harry Potter." He didn't shout or screech, but the cold fury in his voice was unmistakable nonetheless.

"Tom," Harry stopped searching for Sirius to growl at his enemy, stepping forward.

Voldemort sneered at the name, stepping to the side, and Harry stepped in the opposite direction. Draco followed him, eyes never leaving the monster in front of him. "I should have just locked you up in a cupboard and been done with it."

If the jab was meant to rile Harry, it failed. "Your plans never really did work out the way you wanted them to, did they?" Trust Harry to still be a little shit even when facing their death.

"I captured you. I _broke_ you." They circled each other, their words echoing in the silence. Draco realized that the sounds of thunder and battle had stopped. He glanced around to find everyone watching them instead of fighting. The winner of this duel would determine the winner of the war.

"But you didn't, did you?" Harry smirked. "Draco saved me."

"The boy is weak. He couldn't even save his own mother. He ran away like a coward." Hey...

"He stood up against you, when the world told him to sit down." Draco's heart fluttered at Harry's words. "He's the bravest person I know."

"He will die, as everyone will die. And you will watch."

"The only one dying here," Draco called out, "is going to be you."

Harry smiled at him. "Love has defeated you before, and it will do it again."

"Love is a myth!" Suddenly enraged, Voldemort flung a curse at them, but Harry easily deflected it. He flung another spell at them, but Draco found it easy to dodge.

"What's wrong, Tom?" Harry sneered. "Afraid to kill me?"

Voldemort hissed, and he sent a line of green serpents straight at them.

 _"Vipera Evanesca!"_ Draco shouted. The serpents disappeared before they had even gotten close.

"You think I'm your last Horcrux, your last chance, but that's where you're wrong." What was Harry doing? "Snape took it from me. When you killed him, you killed your own soul."

Voldemort's eyes widened as he realized that he had been duped by his most trusted servant. Again.

"And now you're going to die for the same reason that Lucius' wand failed to kill Draco."

Now having a free reign to slaughter Harry as he pleased, Voldemort didn't hesitate before thrusting his wand at the two of them, just as they did to him.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_"Expelliarmus!" "Expelliarmus!_ "

The long jet of green light met the twin sparks of red in the middle of their impromptu circle with a blinding flash of light. The hawthorn wand and the holly wand, each unwilling to let the most precious of their wizards die, pushed back the Killing Curse towards Voldemort, whose wand held no allegiance towards him. The bone-white wand flew out of his hand, just as his body was encased in green light.

Voldemort fell down to the ground, never to live again.

They stood there, their wands falling to their sides. The clouds began to part, and warm beams of sunlight fell onto the battlefield. Carefully, Harry walked over to the corpse, staring down at the unseeing eyes. "He's really dead?"

Draco grabbed his face to turn him away from the gruesome sight. He placed his forehead against Harry's so that the only thing he could see was Draco. "He's dead. And he's never going to hurt you again."

Harry's shoulders sagged, his nose bumping against his. Like a prayer, he whispered, "Thank you."

 

* * *

 

  
With the defeat of their leader, The Death Eaters either ran away or surrendered in the hopes of earning a lighter sentence. The dark creatures were sent back into the Forbidden Forest, and the giants left of their own accord. All that remained were the pieces to pick up. The hillside was completely torn, puddles red with blood, the mud sucking at Draco's boots as he trudged alongside Harry as they searched through the bodies. They passed Fenrir Greyback, some nameless werewolf, and the electrified corpse of Moody. Longbottom and Luna sat on the ground, bodies slouched together, but very much alive. He was surprised by how that sight relieved him. He really had gone soft, hadn't he?

The sound of heart-wrenching sobs drew their attention to Dean falling to his knees beside a lifeless Seamus. With a grimace, he looked away. They passed Ginny and the Weasley twins staring humorlessly at the two corpses of Bill and Fleur, side-by-side, hands just barely touching. An elderly man in a torn waistcoat cradled the head of the woman who had once run Spintwitches.

For as many of their side as they found dead, the Death Eaters had suffered far worse. Some of the mangled bodies he recognized: Crabbe's and Goyle's fathers, Nott's mother, both of Pansy's parents. How many of his friends were now orphans?

Draco stopped walking when he spotted Hermione over by Hagrid. He didn't even think before he ran towards her. Spotting him, she dashed towards him, and they collided in a sea of tangling arms. Then he felt Harry's wrapping around the both of them, and then Hagrid's barrel limbs around all three of them until he found it difficult to breathe.

"Oh, 'Arry, I'm so glad yer alive," Hagrid wiped tears from his face.

"You did it, Harry," Hermione laughed. "It's finally over."

"How's Ron?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't heard word yet. I was hoping to find some other Weasleys to make our way there."

Oh. She burst into tears when he told her about Bill and Fleur, and Draco found her grief like a stab in the gut. So many families torn apart, loved ones lost forever. And his parents had not only helped to cause the battle, but had run away. Hagrid patted her gently on the back, and she wiped her tears. "So now what do we do?"

Draco took Harry's hand. "Whatever we want."


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving Hogwarts - Harry Potter and the Philosopher' Stone   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6-pEhrJsCw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending Theme: Agape by Bear's Den  
> https://youtu.be/q1MmYVcDyMs

The sound of caroling drifted through the trees from the village. Hogsmeade village was the picture perfect snowy little town again. Were it not for the looks on the townspeople's faces, you wouldn't even know that a battle had once took place there. But the bad memories had been buried under the snow, and now people turned to their warm hearths and even warmer friends to stave off the cold.

Unlike sensible people, Harry and Draco were out on the frozen pond, ice skates on their feet. A suspiciously dragon-shaped hole had remained in the middle of the pond, and no magic could return it to the way it once was. No one dared to travel down to the hole to find what was at the bottom. It had long since filled up with rain water, and now acted as a nice cool well. Barriers had been built around the hole to keep anyone from falling in, but still Draco hesitated to travel any further inward. His hands latched onto Harry's arm like a lifeline. "Don't let go of me."

"Don't worry. I've got you." He moved Draco's hands so that they were entwined with Harry's own. "See? We're just strolling along."

"Next to a giant hole." Still, the reassuring squeeze of Harry's fingers settled his nerves a little. Something brown swooped past his head and he looked up to find Harry Jr. chasing a Harry's Golden Snitch. As a Christmas present, Hermione had fiddled with the spell that made his tiny dragon and gave it the ability to fly, which its creators had saw fit to leave out, likely for fear of losing the creature. To his relief, it never went too far, and mainly liked to chase Harry's Snitch around.

"You've just got to distract yourself. Tell me, when do you think they're going to reopen Hogwarts?"

"Probably not until the next fall term. I doubt they'd restart in the spring. From what Ginny's told me, their year was basically Dark Arts training anyway."

"Yeah, and with so much of the staff dead or in Azkaban, McGonagall is going to have a hard time hiring enough people. Do you plan on going back when it does open?"

Draco nodded. "My parents are against it. They're afraid their status as Ex-Death Eaters will earn me unfavorable treatment. They always seem to forget that everyone saw me save the world."

"You helped a little."

He scoffed. "No way. My spell hit him first."

"It did not. Mine did."

"My picture was bigger than yours in the paper."

"That's because your parents bribed the editor! They're so desperate to save their image."

"Don't talk about them like that. They're your parents now too."

Harry blushed. "No, they're not. And I don't think they much like me anyways."

"Ah, just give them time to come around. You offered to speak on their behalf at their trial, so now they're obligated to like you. They just have to relearn their entire world view. Or whatever view best suits the current Ministry."

Snowflakes drifted down lazily and melted on Harry's magically warmed nose. "Speaking of, what do you think Minister Shacklebolt plans to do about the Trace? They haven't found a way to put it back up yet, have they?"

Draco shook his head. "I don't know. Things are just now returning from anarchy. There's a lot of talk of reform to make sure a case like Voldemort's never happens again. Some have argued against putting it back up all together, and some think that they should bring in magical children even younger. Start a preschool of sorts."

"I think I'd like that. It's scary for Muggleborns, not understanding the strange events happening around them. It could prevent a lot of abuse." Draco wondered if that would have saved Harry. "If Tom Riddle had never grown up in that miserable orphanage, if he had known about the wonders of magic, would he have ever become Voldemort?"

"You didn't."

Harry smiled. "I got pretty close."

"But I'll always be closer." Their skating had slowed to a stop. "I'll always pull you back from the edge."

"Jeez," Harry blushed at the intensity of his gaze. "That sounds like a proposal."

"It is if you want it to be."

Harry just turned so red that Draco thought he would make a lovely Christmas ornament. With a laugh, he pushed his skates forward.

 

* * *

 

  
June 28, 1999

  
The Gigglewater in Draco's hands remained undrunk as he mingled about the party in the large cream colored tent. He had to admit that Hermione and Mrs. Weasley had done a rather nice job with the decorating. The flowers were tasteful pink carnations surrounded by white stephanotis. Long white satin ribbons hung from the walls and gathered at the center of the tent in a mirrored chandelier of glowing golden fairies, trapped by their own vanity.

He recognized a lot of their classmates. Neville Longbottom walking arm-in-arm with Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas talking with Justin Finch-Fletchley, Lavender Brown skulking in a shadowy corner, her hat low to try and cover the scars Fenrir Greyback had left on her face and neck, ultimately turning her.

"Why did they decide to have their wedding the day after graduation?" Harry asked, eagerly drinking his Gigglewater, and a laugh escaped him like the bubbles escaped the glass in his hand.

"That way everyone would still be in town, and it could double as a graduation party. Honestly, doubling up parties is just tacky." He brought his own glass to his lips.

Harry swatted him playfully, causing most of the beverage to slosh and spill down his dark blue dress robes. "Sorry." He magicked away the mess with a wave of the hawthorn wand in his hand. They liked to switch their wands a lot. It had gotten to the point where he began to think of both of them as a shared commodity. "Oh look, there's the happy couple now."

Ron and Hermione, both dressed splendidly in white satin, although Hermione had pink carnations in her hair, while Ron had one tucked into his breast pocket, were headed towards them, after expressing their thanks to Hagrid and Madame Maxime for coming.

"Mates, you two were late to the ceremony," Ron chastised them even as he hugged the both of them with one arm. The other seemed to be permanently attached to Hermione's shoulders. Perhaps he had met the business end of a bad Permanent Sticking Charm.

"Sorry. Harry was insatiable this morning."

"Draco!" It was funny how embarrassed Harry would get over the slightest insinuations about their sex lives in public, but had been begging Draco to fuck him into the mattress like a five knut whore just a few hours ago.

"I know what you mean," Ron waggled his eyebrows. "If it weren't for all the potions Hermione's been drinking, we'd have our own group of seven children already."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ronald, that joke is getting old."

"Hey, I'm just saying, given my family history..."

Poor Hermione. Draco didn't envy her one bit. "Hey, we're still up for pub night this week, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Hermione smirked at him. She noticed something over their shoulder. "Oh, there's my parents. I'll talk to you two later. You will, of course, be staying for dinner?"

"So you can trick us into helping clean up?" Draco scoffed.

Harry smiled at her. "Of course we will."

He snorted, but that just as easily could have been the Gigglewater.

Hermione placed a kiss on each of their cheeks before leaving, and Ron, attached by the arm, inevitably followed. They weren't alone for long before Sirius had hobbled his way towards them. Something about the lightning that had struck him had caused one of his legs to go stiff, and couple that with the decades of stress, and the man looked much older than he actually was. His hair was already halfway to turning completely grey.

"Harry, Draco, it's good to see you two." He hugged each of them briefly.

"How have you been, Sirius?" Harry beamed.

"Ah, you know, same old, same old. Remy's arthritis has been acting up, but nothing a good blend of tea won't fix." Sirius had sold Grimmauld Place and moved to a secluded cottage in the countryside of Scotland, where he ran a dog shelter, listened to old swing music, and drank too much tea. Remy was his first rescue, an aging Irish Wolfhound that liked to run with his Animagus form. From what he heard, the man hardly ever spent time in human company. Honestly, he suspected that the only thing still keeping him alive was Harry, and that's why they always made sure to visit him on holiday and write letters. Well, Harry wrote letters.

"Have the twins been bothering you too much?" Oh, and the Weasley twins, he supposed. The three of them had struck up a surprising companionship. Fred and George were awed and amazed by his tales of his school days (they had nearly shit their pants when they found out that he had helped create the Marauder's Map), and Sirius liked to help them come up with new ideas for Wheezes. Harry used to tell him that he could see a little bit of the old Sirius in his eyes whenever he spoke with the twins.

"Only when they try to feed something to one of my dogs. Actually, Harry, I was wondering if I could have a moment alone with Draco?"

Harry nodded, eyes nervously flitting between the two of them before wandering off.

Draco watched him go apprehensively. "Isn't it a bit too late for the shovel talk?"

Sirius laughed. "Nah, you've more than proven yourself. It's the opposite actually, I, uh, wanted to officially welcome you to the family."

"We're not the ones getting married here."

"I know that. Honestly, I should have had this talk earlier, but I suppose seeing you kids graduate has made an old man nostalgic." He put his hand on Draco's shoulder, his smile gone. "I know that there's bad blood between your family and me. I mean, I did kill your aunt."

"No one's weeping over that, trust me."

The corners of his mouth turned up momentarily. "And I know that when you needed support and guidance the most, I abandoned you. I'm sorry for that. I see so much of myself in you. I suppose it frightens me sometimes." He shook his head. "Just wanted to tell you how proud I am of the man you've become, and that I'm glad Harry has someone he can depend on."

To his horror, his eyes were burning and his throat clenched. No, he would not cry at a wedding. "Thanks." His voice sounded just as strained as the other man's.

Sirius cleared his throat loudly, patting him twice on the shoulder before dropping his hand. "Right. I--Right." He nodded, before turning and making a dash for the open bar.

Despite himself, Draco smiled at his polished leather shoes. He searched the crowded tent for his date, only to spot his parents standing awkwardly at this Weasley gathering. He could see his mother eying the centerpieces on the table with disdain, and his father had apparently been Petrified while standing. The party goers gave them a wide berth, but at least everyone was being civil.

Taking pity on them, he walked over to where they stood. "I didn't think you guys would come."

"Sadly, it's the only party we've been invited to this year," his mother spoke in a clipped tone. "A Weasley wedding... our only invitation."

"No one's speaking to us now that we're destitute." The leather gloves on his father's hands squeaked loudly when he tightened them into fists. They were hardly destitute, even with a large chunk of their fortune commandeered by the Ministry as war reparations. They were still vastly wealthier than the Weasleys, for instance.

The problem wasn't in their wealth, but in the results of their trial. Acquitted as they were, ex-Death Eaters were no longer in fashion, and associating with one was political suicide. After the stunt Voldemort pulled, no one with any known affiliations with Death Eaters was allowed any government position ever again.

"We'll just have to make sure your marriage is much bigger than this one. And inside." She sniffed.

"I told you, mother. Harry doesn't want to bother with getting married. He doesn't want all the fuss that his name will bring."

"I don't understand. The wedding of the two saviors of the wizarding world would be the event of the decade. And when we host it at our manor, everyone will have no choice but to accept us."

He rolled his eyes. "See, that is exactly what he's trying to avoid. We don't need to make some vows in front of a crowd to know we'll stay by each other's side."

"Will you?" His father asked in his cool tone. "What are your plans for your future?"

"We've already found a flat in a Wizarding neighborhood. Harry will Floo to his apprenticeship in Egypt, and I will Floo to the Hippocrates School of Medicine. When we both graduated from our respective tutoring, we plan to travel the world together. And when we've discovered all the world has to offer, we will teach at Hogwarts, and then we'll grow old, and retire to a cottage by the sea."

His father nodded in approval, but his mother had stiffened. "You don't plan to inherit the manor?"

"Of course I will, but I'm not sure if I will ever want to live there." Too many bad memories. "I won't abandon it, I swear, mother. And of course, any children we might have will live in it."

"'Might?'" His father raised a disapproving eyebrow.

"Lucius," his mother put a warning hand on his arm. "You're not supposed to pressure him. Draco knows to carry on the line."

His father frowned, stopping just short of crossing his arms and pouting. A year back, Harry had come to a disastrous Christmas dinner at the manor. They had been tense the entire holiday, when Harry finally snapped and laid into them, chastising them for every seeming injustice done to Draco. At the time, he had been horribly embarrassed at Harry shouting all of his insecurities with his family at them, but his mother really seemed to take his words to heart. His father was still coming around. "Of course, as a Malfoy, he will be the best Healer in the world."

His mother rolled her eyes. "And what of your friends, the bride and groom?"

"Ron is going into Auror training and Hermione is studying Magical Law." No doubt to fight for any marginalized groups she could. She had given up on house-elf rights and moved on to werewolf rights. That one at least made a little bit of sense to him. "We have standing dates to meet up every Saturday night at a pub." So that they would never fall out of touch. Draco couldn't ever imagine the Golden Trio falling apart. Oh right, it was the Golden Quartet now.

"That's good. Connections are good."

An eruption of noise drew their attention over to the makeshift stage, where Hermione stood in full view. Someone must have found the counterspell for that Sticking Charm, because Ron stood to the side, with his hands cupped around his mouth instead of using a Sonorous Charm like a sensible wizard. "It's time for the bouquet toss!"

The women all gathered with squealing glee, even Pansy to his amazement. She had been just as awkward as his parents during this whole party, having only recently gained neutral status with Harry and his friends. They hadn't yet rekindled their friendship from before fifth year, but they were on their way. Her invitation to the wedding was proof enough of that.

"Three!" The crowd cheered together. "Two!" Hermione turned her back towards them, her bouquet of pink carnations and white peonies grasped in her hand. "One!" She tossed the bouquet and it sailed far over her head and above the crowd.

Perhaps it was his natural Seeker reflexes, but Draco didn't even think as his hand shot out and caught the bundle of flowers out of the air. Everyone looked at him with shock, and then, all as one, to Harry, who was hiding his face behind a floral centerpiece in embarrassment. Deciding to take pity on him, he walked over to the group of girls and handed the bouquet to Pansy.

She blinked at him in surprise, before smiling gratefully. "Thanks, Draco. I'll use it wisely." He knew she had had her sights set on Vince for a while.

The crowd erupted into applause, and with the main event over, everyone dispersed back to dancing and mingling. His parents, having already made their appearance and given their well-wishes to the happy couple had decided to leave fashionably early. He saw Harry deeply engrossed in a conversation with some old DA members, and so he decided to hit the buffet table instead. He bumped into Luna over by the quail eggs.

"Hello, Draco."

"Hello, Luna. How have you been?"

"Exceptionally ordinary. I must admit, I wish I could ride a unicorn again, but it was a one-time offer." She looked up from her plate of hors d'oeuvres. "And what about you? We've passed the first knot. Have your choices satisfied you?"

As always, she made no sense, but he smiled softly anyway. "Yes, they have."

"That's good. Time travel is a tricky business, so starting over isn't recommended. There are more knots in your future, but I believe you will make the right choice. After all, all of them are right."

"...Right."

His gaze drifted across the tent to where Harry had laughed at some joke. As if sensing his stare, Harry turned to look at him. As always happened when those fiery green eyes focused on him, he felt a tingle across his skin that left behind gooseflesh. Yes, he had made the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Track: Dark Side by Kelly Clarkson  
> https://youtu.be/H5ArpRWcGe0
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me through this adventure. What was originally supposed to be a ~20k fluff and ended up turning into this 200k+ epic. Whew! I'm so grateful for all of you who have left kudos and comments, and putting up with my mixtape and heavy-handed imagery.
> 
> Go forth and read fanfiction, my friends.


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